Pyramid
by patronuses
Summary: An exploration of Tony and Ziva's relationship following the season 8 finale.
1. One

Based off of: 8.24 Pyramid.

The finale left me very bitter, and Ray and EJ can go suck it. This makes me feel better, and in my head, it should have happened like this. We'll see about another chapter. Oh, September is so far away.

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><p>"Tony?"<p>

An unmistakable voice made him raise his face from his hands.

His hair was disheveled and lay in a shaggy heap on his forehead. He was dressed in a dark suit, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The dim light threw a shadow over his face, and he looked absolutely dreadful. A ghost of a smile touched his lips at the sight of her, and his eyes were blood-shot from exhaustion and alcohol - Ziva wasn't sure which was the dominating factor.

"Ziva," he greeted her evenly, and he didn't _seem_ drunk. He gestured at the empty booth he was sitting in, "Sit with me?"

Swaying in her spot hesitantly, her eyes narrowed at him. The bar around them was buzzing with quiet conversation and the faint crooning of a love song, but Ziva paid no attention. She asked him bluntly but quietly, "Are you here alone?"

She stood in front of him, bright eyes wide and shocked to see him. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders in waves, and Tony's eyes immediately spotted the bruise forming on the side of her neck from the blow she took from Jonas earlier in the day. He shook his head at it, scoffing bitterly under his breath.

Tony nodded in reply and took a deep breath, swirling the contents of his drink. He observed the liquid with weary eyes before looking up at her as he spoke, "I am. Are you?"

Ziva slid into the seat across from him. She winced a little while she shifted, trying to get comfortable. His eyes narrowed at her in a familiar, uneasy way. Eventually, Ziva settled and peered at him through the dimness of the room. Tony, of course, had chosen a booth in a secluded corner of the bar, against a wall. It was a defensive habit that he had gotten into far before she knew him. "I am here alone. I did not think that anyone would be here tonight."

"I thought the same thing," Tony chuckled good-naturedly. "Apparently, the both of us were wrong." He didn't ask why she was in the bar, and she was thankful for that. He caught the eye of a waitress across the room. He waved her over. "Can I get another round? One for the lady as well, please."

The young woman sent him a winning smile, replying, "Sure thing, hun." She touched Tony's shoulder in a feeble attempt to catch his attention, but Tony didn't give her a second look.

Ziva smiled inwardly at the realization.

Tony was oblivious to all of this. "It has been one hell of a day," he said this with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. The lines on his face appeared more pronounced than ever before, but it was a result of the heightened stress. Ziva knew his youthful appearance would reemerge after things settled.

His face shadowed and echoed his concern as he asked her in a hushed voice, "Are you feeling okay?"

She paused, taken back by his sudden question. Squinting at his face suspiciously, she replied, "I have had worse, Tony."

"I know," he answered bluntly.

He gave her a long look, still concerned, that she couldn't decipher.

"I'm glad you're okay," Tony admitted, tapping on the empty glass in front of him. "For awhile, I thought that -" He broke off, not willing to finish his sentence, hoping that somehow she understood.

"I am okay, Tony."

"But - if you weren't, Ziva - I don't know what I'd -"

"But I _am._"

His voice was a whisper, "Okay."

Tony stared down at his hands, knuckles closed tight over the glass in front of him. She could tell that his jaw was snapped shut - He was holding himself back. Ziva noticed that he had been doing that a lot as of late.

Ziva was moved by his quiet concern, and she sent him a tender expression that he didn't see. "It was another close-call, but it is nothing, Tony. I have had worse from sparring. Poor Palmer, though. He was a little shaken up, but I'm sure that Breena patched him up just fine." She made a sour attempt at a joke that Tony didn't humor.

He ignored her comment about Palmer. Still speaking in a whisper, he mumbled to himself more than her, "You're _okay._ That's what matters."

Making a face, she realized that Jonas capturing her bothered him more than he let on. If it were at all possible, Tony may have been more concerned for her than Ray, and the idea of that was wrong in that Ray was supposed to care for her more because they had a _thing_, but it obviously wasn't the case.

Tony always seemed to be the one who cared for her the most.

An involuntary shiver went up her spine.

Tenderly, she said, "Thank you, Tony. Ray said that you practically manhandled both him and Kort to get information about my whereabouts, and while manhandling never gets you anywhere, thank you for having my back - _again_."

Tony didn't reply to her comment. At the sound of Ray's name, he temporarily forgot his worrying.

"You weren't at Mike's funeral."

Tony's voice had an undertone of accusation in it - If Ziva didn't know him as well as she did, she would not have caught it. He kept his tone casual and light because he never did like confrontation about sensitive topics. However, she heard his intention loud and clear, and a wave of guilt hit her like the cool Pacific. When she opened her mouth to speak, the waitress returned, cheerfully oblivious, to deliver their drinks.

"Thank you," Ziva murmured to the woman. She took a small sip of her drink to fill the silence.

Tony's eyes travelled up to look at her, eyes plainly red, and watched her over his glass intently, still patiently waiting for her answer.

"Ray had to catch a flight out of the country, and..."

Tony's eyebrows pulled together, mouth pressing together in a frown. He didn't _like_ Ray, and the fact that he kept her away from Mike's funeral didn't help very much. If Tony still had not found a reason to rip Ray apart, he now had one.

To Ziva's surprise, his reply was not bitter. He was speaking quickly, "Sorry, I didn't know. I just thought that it was strange you weren't there, and -" Her hand raised, and Tony clamped his jaw shut with a click.

"Do not worry about it," Ziva shrugged it off easily. "I wish I could have been there, and I would have if things were different."

She fell silent, turning her focus to the drink in front of her. Chewing on her straw thoughtfully, Ziva's expression was in a far-off place. She thought of Ray's promise to her and wondered if it meant anything. From her experiences, they never really did hold much meaning.

Tony asked softly, though his eyebrows were still pulled together with tension, "How're things with you and CI-Ray?"

Ziva snapped back to reality with a slight jerk of her head. His question seemed innocent enough, a conversational thing between two friends, but with them, things were never what they seemed. It took her awhile to find the right words, but she was looking Tony in the eyes as she thought, searching for something - an answer - within them.

His eyes met hers with the same searching emotion.

"I am not sure. He is out of the country, and he does not know how long he will be gone."

Of course, he knew that there was a punchline. "But?"

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" Tony asked in return. His voice was even, but there was a slight trembling beneath the surface. Suddenly, she became aware that Tony knew more than she realized. "There's something else, isn't there? I can tell, and - Don't lie to me, Ziva."

The line hit a soft spot. She had to tell him.

"He had me open a ring box," Ziva explained slowly. She refused to look at his face, staring at her intertwined fingers in front of her. It was hard to explain to him because even she didn't know what she was feeling. "It was empty, but he said that it was a promise..." She took a deep breath, "about - I do not even know for sure - the future?"

Finally, her gaze floated back up to his, and he was still staring at her, a soft expression in his eyes. A part of her melted at the sight of him. She tried to shake off the feeling to no avail. His eyes were a dark grey under the dim lamp hanging above their heads, a mixture of sadness and hurt and _something_ lingering in them, and for the life of her, Ziva couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

"I see," Tony said slowly. His voice sounded a little choked, but he dismissed it with a small, superficial grin. Grey eyes were churning with intensity, and Tony was careful to keep his voice even and friendly, but his expression betrayed him. "I think that's a little tactless."

He grinned a little in an attempt to break the tension.

"I think that - given if I were a woman and I was handed an empty box - I would have broken his nose. It's not good to get a woman's hopes up like that - Especially about something so big. I mean - What do you think when you see a ring box?"

She hoped his question was rhetorical because she didn't answer.

Tony studied her expression and asked lightly, "Well, do you think CI-Ray is the right one, then?" He didn't ask her the real question - the one he couldn't ask and the one that she didn't have an answer to. _Are you in love with him?_

"I am not really sure," she said. Ziva knew that this topic was treading on thin ice, but she didn't break her gaze as she continued, "I think that it is possible, but we will have to see. We left our relationship open-ended, and it feels like nothing is concrete as of right now. I do not know."

Tony leaned back in his seat, nodding fervently. His lips were pressed together and judging by the crease in his hands, he was digging his palms into the table. There was a flash of feeling in his eyes, one that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He smiled kindly at her, but it was a lackluster and feeble attempt to hide his conflicting emotions.

Ziva didn't understand what was going on in his head, but then again, she never had. With Tony, she learned to take what she could get, but it didn't stop her from wondering what was happening within. Something about him kept her guessing, but at the same time, a part of her felt like she understood him better than anyone else in the world.

Tony continued to nod at her, not trusting himself enough to speak.

Ziva didn't know what to say, but since he asked about her, she figured that she might as well ask about him. "And you and EJ? Do you know where you stand?"

A very curious thing happened then. It was less than a split second, and it was so quick that if Ziva blinked, she would have missed it. Tony winced as if he was in physical pain, and there was another flash in his eyes that was similar to the last one. The expression was gone in a heartbeat and was replaced by a calm mask.

"You know," Tony shrugged, clearing his throat. His voice was steady, but his eyes were sullen and swirling. "I'm not sure. I think that I may be having second thoughts about it. I'm not - I don't like her as much as I thought I did..." He winked at her, smiling in a way that almost looked like a grimace.

She knew that she looked as confused as she felt. Tony was acting strangely, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Did something happen?" She was truly interested now.

Tony shook his head. He chewed at his lip, contemplating. "No, nothing happened. I just... I think that if it was right, it would have felt right. I don't even think that I really -" He stopped himself. "Well, do you know what I mean?"

Ziva nodded almost immediately, and Tony looked almost relieved. "I do." She felt the need to reassure him, "I think that it will work itself out, Tony, regardless of if you and EJ remain together. Things always work out for the better."

He looked slightly amused and mumbled under his breath, "We were never _together_." Draining the contents of his glass in a large gulp that made him recoil, he licked his lips thoughtfully. A part of him felt the need to elaborate, "I don't think I really ever liked her. Nice girl, yeah, but not my type."

Ziva laughed, and for whatever the reason, she felt pleased. "You have to be joking. You have been following around the girl like a lost puppy for weeks, and _now_ you decide that she is not your type?"

Tony smiled slightly, shaking his head. He mumbled to the table, "Can't knock it until you try it."

"I do not think that quite applies to women, Tony," she chided him lightly.

His head snapped up at her, emotions churning in his eyes again, and something was at the tip of his tongue, but at the last moment he clenched his fists and turned away. Head shaking, his lips were moving silently, almost as if he was scolding himself.

The action was really starting to irritate Ziva, but she decided to let it slide one last time.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Tony dismissed after awhile. He glanced around the bar and made a motion with his hand - Another round of drinks.

"It is not a good idea to get yourself drunk."

"Doesn't matter either."

"It _does _matter."

Tony frowned at her, and she frowned back.

Resisting the urge to touch him for the millionth time that day, she settled for a soft sigh. Ziva knew that there had to be something wrong, something that he wanted to let out - Why else would he be in a bar in the middle of the night after the hellish couple of days?

"What's wrong, Tony?"

"I don't even know."

She didn't respond and waited for him to continue talking. A fresh drink was placed in front of her, and she remembered Tony finding Kort's eye inside of his, once upon a time. Time seemed a little distorted, and it was strange to think that it happened weeks ago.

"What happens now? Jonas is dead and so is Mike. We got the bad guy in the end, and things are going to go back to normal and that's great but... I don't know. Maybe everything that has happened put some perspective over my life, the same way Jeanne did, the same way Jenny did, the same way Somalia did."

Ziva winced at the memory, and Tony noticed.

"It's put some perspective over your life too, hasn't it? I don't see how it _wouldn't_. The difference between you and I is that you're actually _doing_ something, and I'm still standing here in the same place I've been in for the last eight years.

"And truthfully, that doesn't bother me too much. What we have here isn't something ordinary, and I would _die_ a thousand times over for one of you, and I'm fairly positive that any of you would do the same for me."

"Of course," Ziva answered immediately. "Without hesitation."

Tony half-smiled. "But you know, I don't want to wake up one morning and suddenly realize that my life was only this."

"You are young, Tony, and nowhere near dead yet." She rolled her eyes, and a wider smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe you're right, but I'm getting up there, Miss 'I'm-not-even-thirty'. Honestly, woman," Tony teased lightly, the familiar mischievous glint reaching his eyes.

Ziva took the mickey, throwing on a saucy smirk, "You know what they say about older men."

There was another one of those flashes in his eyes, and Tony rumbled in a low voice, leaning toward her across the table, "I'm sure you'd like to find out."

Their playful mood shifted abruptly, and the intense, sexually charged undertones made her tremble slightly.

She found herself leaning towards him instinctively, nudging his leg with hers under the cramped table. Breathing in return, "And what makes you so sure about that?"

Tony's fingers skated over the soft skin of her hand before traveling up to rub his lip thoughtfully. The connotation of his actions made her want to squirm. Ziva held back a shudder, and she hated that he could do that so easily, even after all these years. He grinned arrogantly, not answering her question, "Can CI-Ray do _that_?"

Tony realized his mistake, judging by the way he pulled away almost immediately after the words left his mouth. His jaw was clenched so tight that it looked as if it were about to shatter.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, nearly ready to jump out of her throat, and no, Tony _couldn't_ have meant it that way, not after all the years of teasing and dancing around each other, not after she _finally_ convinced herself that it simply wouldn't happen.

"Tony -"

He cut her off, "I'm kidding, Ziva."

However, the look on his face said the opposite.

Across the table, her eyes narrowed at him, and he was shaking his head quickly, raising his palms in surrender.

"Honestly, Ziva. I didn't mean anything by it, and maybe I _am_ drunk."

"Do not _lie_ to me, Tony," she hissed this at him because she could tell when he was truly lying to her, and he was.

Just like how the line had worked on her earlier, his expression grew guilty, and the tension in his body deflated like a balloon. His eyes focused on the empty glass in front of him and drifted to her palms flat on the table. Tony was fidgeting under the table, and she noticed that their legs were still touching underneath it.

Neither moved away.

"It doesn't matter," Tony said finally, giving her a heart wrenching look.

"It does matter. It does to me."

Ziva didn't feel angry, but rather, frustrated. Whatever Tony had to say was important, but he did not trust himself enough to say it - Or rather, he was too afraid to say it.

She sounded more confident than she felt, "Do not feed me bullshit."

There was decision in his eyes when Tony eventually nodded once to himself. He exhaled slowly and his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Ziva, have you ever thought that - _Maybe I'm tired of almost losing you_. Maybe I _can't_ lose you."

Her mouth grew very dry, and she couldn't speak. What did that possibly _mean_?

"Two summers ago - I almost lost it, okay? You don't really understand how much I - No one does. To think that my _partner_ was dead and that it was my fault and that if I hadn't screwed up, she would be alive and with us and -" He closed his eyes and tried to block out the painful memories.

"What does that have to do with this?"

"Everything. It has everything to do with this."

He drew in a shuddering breath. "When Jonas got a hold of you today, I almost died. For it to happen _again_, for _another_ psycho to have you at his clutches - God, I almost - Ray and Kort were lucky that I didn't shoot the both of them on the spot because the thought of it happening _again_, right under my nose..."

"It was by no means _your_ fault!" Ziva growled passionately. "You need to stop blaming yourself because it is not doing either of us any good."

"I'll always blame myself when it comes to you, Ziva," Tony answered evenly, a small, sad and amused smile playing on his lips.

"Tony, what _is_ this?"

"Do you love him?" He answered her with another question, one that had her blinking in confusion.

"_What?"_

"Do you love him?"

"Ray?"

"No, Ziva. The fucking snowman," Tony lightly bit back at her sarcastically. "Now, tell me, are you in love with him?"

"What does _Ray_ have to do with this?"

"Ziva, _please_."

Ziva couldn't form a coherent thought even though it felt like her mind was moving at the speed of light. She felt beads of sweat form on the back of her neck, but the bar was _freezing_ goddammit. The mixture of confusion and alcohol and tension made her head throb. Her hands clenched into fists.

"If he asked you to marry him, right now, would you say yes?"

"No."

The word slipped from her mouth before she could stop it, and once it was gone, she realized that it was the complete truth. There were millions of reasons why, and at the moment, she couldn't pinpoint a single one.

Tony appeared shocked, but it slowly grew into triumph, and the arrogant grin touched his features again.

"That's all I needed to know."

"That is _wonderful_. I am glad_ you_ have all the information you need," Ziva snapped irritably.

His laugh was gleeful, and her frustration eased at the sound, just a little. Slowly, his laughter ceased, and he moved toward her, his expression straightening into a tender sort of seriousness.

"I've been trying to wait him out."

A breath caught in the middle of her throat, and she froze, not daring to move. He couldn't mean it like that - It was impossible that he could possibly -

"After... _Somalia," _it sounded almost painful for him to say, "it took me forever to understand _why_ it affected me so much, and after I finally pieced it together, it took me so long to - Long story short," he said with a slight smile, "when I realized that someone else had gotten to you before I did, I figured that I would wait him out to avoid another fiasco. It didn't sound too hard - You were officially an agent, and I had no intentions leaving. I had time to spare."

His hand reached across the table to grasp hers, and Ziva nearly jumped out of her skin because she didn't notice his movement. She eased when she realized that it was him, and he played with her ring finger, never breaking his gaze.

"My plan didn't work out too well because he never went away, and you don't _understand _how difficult it was for me to sit here and watch you - After today, I realized that I'm sick of waiting around."

Ziva choked out with difficulty, "And EJ? Why did you -"

He shrugged guiltily, not releasing her finger, "A poor attempt at a distraction. A poor attempt to get your attention. I'm glad it didn't work. Obviously, I didn't think it out all the way."

She couldn't wrap her head around what was happening, and she murmured, "Where does this leave us?"

Tony looked at her, eyes still dark but filled with fondness, "I've spoken my piece. I don't know if you still feel anything for me - I know that at one point you did, but I don't know if it's still there - So really, it's your call."

"How did you know what to say?"

He smiled then, and a rush of déjà vu hit her at his words, "Guess I had a long time to think about... things."

Her voice was a whisper, "Okay."

"Okay."

Tony looked like he wanted to say more, but unexpectedly, he released her hand and stood from the booth, pulling out his wallet. Tony flipped through the bills while speaking, "Well, let me know, then?"

Ziva was stunned into silence by his sudden movement. A rush of loss hit her, and she _missed_ the warmth of his hand. She quickly stood also, facing him.

Tony gave her a small smile, one that was uncertain, and said, "I think I'm going to take Gibbs' offer and not go into work tomorrow. It was nice of you to keep me company, eh?"

The knot in her throat made her unable to form words.

"Well, see you on Monday," Tony sent her one last smile and walked toward the exit, his fingers brushing casually across her arm as he passed her.

Ziva stared at the wall, stunned, at the place where Tony had been standing, and she didn't want it to end like that. Suddenly making her decision, she turned and followed him with large strides, rushing out into the brisk spring night and catching his wrist just as he was about to step off the sidewalk.

Tony glanced her, a question in his eyes, and _damn him,_ he had planned for her to go after him all along. A devilish expression played on his face.

"I have a couple of steaks at home, and since you always gloat that you are the so-called 'grill king', would you care to come over tomorrow night?" Ziva hoped that he realized what she was really trying to tell him, and as soon as the warm smile lit up his face, she knew that he did.

Another one of those flashes filled his eyes, and this time, Ziva realized what it was all along. Quietly, he said, "I'd like that."

"I would too."

He was nodding, and he leaned close to her. Ziva half-expected him to kiss her, but he didn't. Rather, he pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there for a long moment that made Ziva's heart flutter in an unhealthy way. Pulling away, he said, "Go get some rest."

Tony walked away from her without another word nor a second glance.

Ziva wasn't sure how long she stood on the sidewalk, gazing at the place where his car was parked. She should have known that it would happen eventually, but really, Ziva didn't want to get her hopes up only to be let down. He was right - She felt something for him, and she still did and that was the real reason why she wasn't in love with Ray. Tony was in the picture.

A part of her felt disappointed that Tony hadn't kissed her or taken her home, but she realized that, perhaps, he was perfectly content with taking his time.

And that realization confirmed everything that he told her tonight.

Moved and astonished in a good way, Ziva smiled slightly and started toward her car.


	2. Two

All right. I've decided that I'll see where this goes. But honestly, it'll have no plot whatsoever. I haven't got enough substance to do a chapter story, so it'll be bits and pieces of things I feel like adding in. It'll hold me until September, at least. That means I actually need a title. Oh man.

Edited: 6/7/11

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><p>"Tony DiNozzo is early? Has the world ended?"<p>

His eyes were the normal greenish gray, bright and twinkling under the light overhead. He wore his signature charming grin, holding up the wine bottle in one of his hands menacingly, "Easy there, I can hold this hostage, you know, and the Friday night traffic was surprisingly nonexistent, for your information, Miss David."

Ziva humored him with a playful roll of her eyes while she took the grocery bag from his other hand wordlessly.

She stepped out the of the doorway and let him slip past her. Kicking off his sneakers and pushing them aside, he tapped just below her chin with his thumb in a brief, wordless greeting, the smile never leaving his face. A slight blush rose to her cheeks because they were standing closer than usual, and the smell of him filled her nostrils. She wasn't sure if the scent was his breath or his skin or a mixture of both. She pushed the door closed with her free hand, never breaking her gaze from his, and his hand reached up to lock it, his fingers brushing over hers in a way that made her stomach do a flop.

Ziva swallowed with difficulty. Her voice was a little strained when she asked, "Are we just going to stand here?"

"I'd be okay with that."

His stomach growled, and there was a suspended second where they stared at each other in disbelief before they both burst into an unconfined fit of laughter. He threw is head back with a reckless abandon that Ziva missed seeing. His face was alight and so close to hers that she could count the curves and lines that the laughter created, and she couldn't take her eyes off him.

The laughter eventually faded, and he widely grinned above her, still in a very close proximity. He wouldn't be the one to move first, so she started to walk toward the kitchen, wiping the joyful tears from her eyes. Tony was immediately on her heels, his hand lingering on the small of her back.

The small action made her heart swell with a pride that she couldn't place.

"It won't take me long to whip up these suckers," Tony said from somewhere behind her while she unloaded the groceries that he very graciously offered to buy before heading over to her apartment, "so if you're not hungry yet, let me know."

Ziva let out an amused snort, smashing the plastic bag into a ball and turning to face him, saying, "It does not matter. You can not wait, anyway." With this, she tossed the bag at him just as he shut her refrigerator door, and he barely looked up in time to catch it, fumbling before clutching it in his fist with a satisfied and entertained expression.

"Throwing things at me already? I've only been here five minutes - First plastic, next knives," Tony groaned. He covered the length between them in two strides, tossing the bag in the garbage can to her right and hovering over her.

"Do not give me ideas," replied Ziva in mock-seriousness. She rose on her toes and pecked his cheek casually, dodging around him so that he wouldn't be able to pin her to the counter.

Studying his reaction, Ziva saw his shoulders rise and fall very slowly. His fingers were trembling rather visibly. His arms were wrought with tension, and she idly wondered what the tightened muscles would feel like underneath the pads of her fingers. She kept her expression light and easy because this was the way they did things, tiptoeing and dancing out of each other's reach, carefully testing new waters.

He cleared his throat, a slightly punch-drunk look on his face. Tony suggested while searching her expression with confused eyes, "Um, pass me a bowl, and I'll do the steaks. You get the potatoes?"

Ziva nodded in reply, trying to keep the smirk off her face and reaching up into the cabinet behind her to pull out a bowl. Tony was still eying her when she handed it to him, looking as if he wanted to say something. He settled with a brush of his hand against the smooth skin of her forearm, and Ziva swore she would have dropped the bowl if he was not holding it.

Giving her one last look with a raised eyebrow, he turned away, shrugging to himself.

She turned her back to him as well.

"Has anyone tried to call you yet, Tony?"

"No, thank god," he replied casually. There was the sound of water running, and Ziva guessed he was washing his hands. "I'm surprised. It seems like Gibbs really did give us the day off."

"Good thing. We have been working like madmen for weeks." She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she stood over her stove, wrapping potatoes in foil.

"Agreed."

Tony moved and was suddenly behind her, his torso pressed against her back, sturdy and overwhelming. He leaned over her to turn on the oven, and he murmured into her ear, "I don't think I'm going to grill these bad boys."

Her voice was a surprised squeak, "Okay."

He chortled in appreciation and didn't move away. His lips brushed against the skin below her ear softly, so feather-light that it tickled, and the action made her shiver against him. Tony made a sound from the back of his throat, caressing her arm feebly and pressing his lips against the spot with more pressure.

Closing her eyes in ecstasy, she brought her hand up to touch his - the one that was rested firmly on her arm - and ran her fingers along his experimentally. Ziva made note of the ridges and contours and outlines of the back of his hand. It was rough and utterly male and very, very warm.

He pulled away after a prolonged moment, going back to his post next to the sink. Tony was opening jars of spices and pouring them skillfully into the large bowl as if nothing had ever happened.

Ziva shook her head at him, letting a small smile seep onto her face.

The score was one to two. Her move.

Tony was humming to himself pleasantly - _He really couldn't keep quiet, could he?_ He was mixing the contents of the bowl with his fingers, oblivious to her eyes on him. Ziva figured that he could feel her gaze on his back, but he made no move to acknowledge it. Reaching into the sink, there was a sound of ripping before he pulled out a hunk of meat and dropped it into the bowl.

She forced to get back to work.

No one said anything until long after Ziva started cooking vegetables over the stove. Tony stood next to her, their bare arms touching in a strangely intimate way, and he watched a sizzling steak intently. He flipped the meat over once before glancing at her shyly. Tony's voice was booming in the silence that had settled between the two of them.

"I was talking to EJ this morning."

She looked up at his face.

"She called me. Wanted to grab lunch."

Ziva nodded once.

"I told her that it'd be best if we were just friends."

She stirred the vegetables casually and added a chunk of butter to the pot.

"She hung up on me."

Ziva let out a snort, and Tony half-smiled at her with an amused expression.

He scoffed at her but looked almost relieved, "Glad you find it funny. Just another person to add on my list of people who'd love to have my head." Tony shrugged and carefully placed the dripping piece of meat onto a rack. He nudged her out of the way with his elbow and set the steak into the oven. While he set the next piece on the stove, he said, "Well, the list is already several miles long, anyway. One more person isn't going to make much of a difference."

She bumped him with her shoulder.

"There's no need to worry about her anymore?"

"You never really had to," he replied. His gaze was firmly set in front of him.

"Good to know."

"And Ray?"

"I sent him an email this morning."

Tony mumbling something along the lines of "good riddance" and rolled over the steak with a stifled yawn.

"Do you like your meat red or...?"

"Medium."

"All right. I like red steaks myself. It's juicy, melt-in-your-mouth goodness. All the natural flavors mix with the spices, and it's perfection. Well-done steaks are absolutely horrid. They're dry and lifeless and literally need to be drowned in sauce. That's how you know if your meat is good - The less sauce, the better."

Ziva listened to his babbling, nodding feebly as she poured the steaming contents of her pot into a bowl. She placed it on the table near the living room and moved back into the kitchen. Peeking into the toaster, she asked, "Do you think these are done?"

Tony was placing the last piece of steak into the oven, shutting it with a mittened hand. He glanced at the clock on the wall and leaned on the counter, watching her intently with a quirk on his face. Tony crossed his arms in front of him, and he looked differently than he did at work. It had been awhile since Ziva had seen him in something other than a suit, and it was a nice change.

"Give it a few more minutes," he said.

Ziva mirrored him and stared at him from across the small space of the kitchen.

He burst into a small grin.

"What, Tony?"

"Nothing."

Ziva realized that it was still her move.

"I'm surprised."

"About what?" He tilted his head in a way that reminded her of a puppy. Ziva had to blink several times to remember what she was going to say.

"You have been surprisingly pleasant."

"I'm normally not pleasant?" he gasped, taking the mickey with a melodramatic expression on his face that made her laugh.

Ziva approached him and stopped when there was less than an inch of space between them. She looked up at his face steadily, and of course, he met her gaze with an equal intensity. His eyes, greenish grey and mesmerizing, flickered down to her mouth. Ziva smirked saucily when she realized it. She said slowly, "I have a question."

"Ask away."

"You are being... uncharacteristically conservative."

His eyebrows raised, and creases appeared on his forehead. "Conservative," he repeated flatly.

Nodding, she replied, "Conservative. I half-expected you to, um, for lack of a better word, jump me the moment I opened the door."

Tony offered cockily, "That can be arranged."

She ignored him, "Slow was never your style."

He frowned in realization of what she meant. His expression lost its tightness and eased into something open and very raw. Lips pressing together in thought, he pressed his palms into the counter behind him, bracing himself against it. "My style obviously has never worked," he answered finally.

"Yes."

Tony sighed.

"This can end two ways. Good or bad. There's no in-between, and you know that," he sent her a frighteningly honest expression, "Honestly, I don't want to screw up. Bad - I can't do bad. I've screwed up before - on multiple occasions - and it nearly ended badly, and to know what that feels like gives me insight into what I need to do to make this - whatever this is_ - _work because I can't handle bad. I can't." He repeated it for emphasis, and Ziva was nodding fervently.

"You have put a lot of thought into this," she observed aloud.

"I've had a lot of time, Ziva."

Her body was tingling from what he had told her, and it really sunk in. He was serious about this - _Tony Dinozzo, actually serious about something_ - and this wasn't just some fling. Tony put thought into it, and judging by the crease between his eyebrows, it worried him. The truth, wholesome and untainted, was out in the open. Their pasts were muddled with lies and deception and to start _this_ with the truth was a good start. He was wholly content with taking things slow because he had already waited so long and he wanted to savor it.

Ziva felt a rush of affection toward him because of it. It made her want him even more.

She placed a hand gingerly on his chest, over his heart, testing the action. It was an easy thing. Natural.

She murmured, "It is going to take a lot of getting used to."

"This?"

"This," Ziva agreed.

He touched the hand and took it in his. Rubbing the back of it, he said confidently, "We'll manage." He frowned a little, "You never asked a question, you know."

"I do have one."

"And what would it be?"

Ziva brought herself close enough to him that their breaths were mingling. It wasn't the first time, but it was different now. The emotions that had surged through her before were threatening to burst from her every pore this time. It was truly going to happen this time. They were on the same page, singing the same song, walking to the same beat. There were no interruptions or complications - none that mattered, anyway.

Tony made no move toward her, but his eyes were glued to her face, clinging to her every movement.

"Your question, Ziva?" His tone was urgent, low, and his eyes were swirling with smoldering emotions.

"Why have you not kissed me yet?"

He chuckled fondly, "Blunt, much?"

A split-second later, his lips were on hers, and it was entirely different than what she imagined it being.

For whatever the reason, she always thought that it would be a burst of wild passion, that it would be years of confined frustration finally being let loose. It would be like a tidal wave, sudden impact, sudden change. It would be like when they were undercover, passionate and sexual and erotic. She half-imagined him pushing her against a wall, and it leading to something more - Something charged with the sexual energy that had been present from the very second they met, something instinctive and extremely satisfying.

But it wasn't the case.

Not at all.

His lips were heart wrenchingly tender. There was no urgent undertones to it. It was slow and precise, skillful. The pressure and movement was absolutely spot-on, and _damn him, _Tony lived up to his reputation. It made her whimper despite herself and cling to him. Ziva had been kissed before, and a majority of them were excellent kisses, but absolutely nothing compared to this. His mouth was patient and testing but confident at the same time. There was passion behind it, but not the kind of passion she had assumed it would be. It was fondness and familiarity and _wanting, _but there were no implications of him wanting anything other than the kiss.

Her. It was the wanting of _her_ in the kiss. Nothing more.

He was pouring every emotion he had into it.

She didn't know that was even _possible._

His hands were placed firmly at her hips, holding her close to him and very possibly keeping her upright. He made a sound, pressing a little more firmly against her mouth and making her lose herself in the feeling of it. His teeth took a hold of a tiny piece of her lip, nibbling experimentally. Her reply was a choked whimper, and she was kissing him back with all she had but she had no idea of if her amount of emotion even came close to his.

He pulled away, grinning gleefully.

Tony was slightly out of breath and red-cheeked but definitely not panting like her.

"Tah-dah," Tony said happily, pecking her chastely and moving away. He opened up the oven, nodding to himself and throwing on a mitt. The aroma of cooked meat filled her nose, and it made her mouth water more than it already was. Tony placed the steaming pan down on top of the stove to let the steaks cool.

"Do I live up to the rumors?" Tony asked, and Ziva flashed back to the conversation the two had eavesdropped on, once upon a time.

"I've had better," Ziva answered with a straight face because there was no way he was going to get the satisfaction of being the best kisser she had ever encountered easily.

His face fell a fraction, and it was enough to break her resolve.

She touched his face and kissed him again. It was addicting, and it made her wonder how they were ever going to concentrate at work again. She took the lead this time, and she was determined to show him up. This was what she did best after all. She didn't 'ooze sexual energy' for nothing. Ziva had to show for it.

Ziva was stumbling backward, and the small of her back hit a counter. There it was, finally, the raw passion that she had known their kisses could be. Tony still seemed a little restrained, and while she appreciated it, she didn't think that it was completely necessary. If he was anywhere near as hungry for her as she was for him, controlling himself had to be unbearable.

His tongue was hot like fire in her mouth, and the two of them were battling for dominance. The feelings sweeping through her made her knees weak again, but she didn't let up. Her fingernails dug into the sides of his neck and caused him to groan loudly. His hands were still at her hips, but his thumbs had slipped under her shirt and were caressing the skin in the area, burning hot against it.

She moaned when he jerked away and found the spot below her ear from earlier. Tony wasn't being careful about it this time, however. Ziva grasped his forearms and arched against him because this was good. It was completely and utterly amazing and - Why in the _hell_ hadn't they gotten their shit together earlier?

Tony moved away, and this time, he was struggling for air too.

Ziva was smug because she accomplished her goal.

He shook his head in disbelief, looking her straight in the eye, at a loss for words.

She recovered quicker than he did this time and silently replied by moving around him. Ziva pulled two plates out and slapped a steak down onto each one. She pushed one of the plates into his shaking hands saying, "Let us eat, then? We will have more time to talk later and do _other _things."

Tony snapped out of it and laughed appreciatively. "Never thought I'd say it, but screw the movie."


	3. Three

Short chapter. Didn't want to make it too long in fear of it getting too fluffy. But, it makes me wonder how I can even _avoid_ fluff with these two. It's much too fun to resist.

* * *

><p>She was shrouded in a feeling of elation that made her feel almost weightless. There was nothing that mattered other than the soft comfort of sheets and the ticking of the clock on the wall and the dawn's sunlight streaming in from the crack between the curtains. Faint buzzing of the awakening city filled the room, and it was somehow both separate from and mingling with the room's atmosphere. She let her eyes flicker closed, and she floated in the obliviousness of the morning after bliss.<p>

However, the presence of his warm body next to her was enormous.

He was nestled loosely at her side, not completely touching her but close enough that she could feel the infectious heat radiating off his skin. An arm was draped over her waist and the fingertips of his other hand were inches away from her temple. He was snoring softly. The sound was muffled by the pillow his face was partially buried in. One of his bare knees was nudging her leg, their skin sticking together, and it made emotion rush through her because she was now convinced that _this _was what life was supposed to feel like.

She found no way to describe the feeling in the center of her chest.

Tilting her head, she squinted at the clock on the nightstand. It was ridiculously early for a Saturday morning, but her body was already wired. However, Ziva didn't even debate getting out of bed. Perhaps, if he were someone else, she would be long gone, but he wasn't just another someone. The world would have to be ending for her to get up, and even then, it wasn't likely that she would.

She breathed a sigh of content and shifted in the bed, pulling the covers up to their chins. Ziva tried not to wake him and kept her movement to a minimum, but Tony was close enough that he reacted. His hand tightened over her hip, keeping her from moving, and he mumbled indistinctly into his pillow before falling back into snores.

With a smile, she rolled onto her side to study him.

His face was youthful in his sleep. The expression was even and natural. There was no joy, but no sorrow either. Any contours and lines that were etched into his skin when he was awake were invisible, and impossibly, even the faint smile lines at the corners of his eyes were smoothed over. She suddenly grew very jealous of the two-day's worth of stubble growing along his sharp jaw and had to keep herself from touching the rough patch of skin.

Carefully, she scooted closer to him. Her index finger drew patterns on his bare chest idly, and the entire situation was so excruciatingly intimate that she had to hold back a shudder. There were no more guards left between them. Somewhere along the road - she wasn't entirely sure where - their defenses were shed and lowered, and _this_ was what was left, feelings and emotions -

Affection, loyalty, fondness, longing, honesty and _trust._

The amount of trust was nerve-wracking.

This was so painstakingly _vulnerable _that in another world, another circumstance, Ziva would bolted for the door instantly. But right here, lying next to Tony, she wouldn't have it any other way. They _needed_ this level of rawness.

Her thoughts were endless and distracting, and time passed with no indication at all. Seconds or minutes or an hour could have passed before he shifted and groaned in a way that meant he was awake.

He blinked at her in confusion but didn't move away. It took a moment before realization swept into his eyes and made them widen slightly, and up close, his eyes were far more green than gray. His face sparked with _life. Z_iva jolted when she saw it. Realization hit her like a freight train - His face always held the emotion. Whether he was happy, ecstatic, furious, or even heartbroken, the life on his face never faltered. It was always there, forever present. _Life_ was the buried-deep emotion on his face that she could never recognize all these years.

Life didn't count as an emotion, but Ziva couldn't find a word to explain the constant expression on his face. He was man with heightened senses, and he felt _everything_ around him. Tony oozed emotion from every pore of his body and that alone was enough to make him charismatic.

But, lucky for him, his endearing charm brought his charisma to a whole other level.

He smiled with his lips together, and it was an action she recognized as a tender one. Suddenly, the lines at the corners of his eyes returned. She wasn't at all opposed to the restoration of it.

"Morning," he said, voice rough from sleep.

"Good morning," she replied just as softly.

"What time is it?"

"It is best if you do not know."

He chuckled in response while an arm slipped under her and dragged her close to his body. Tony, surprising her again, didn't kiss her. He wrapped her in a snug embrace, the feeling of him overpowering her senses as usual. There wasn't anything overly sexual about the movement. It was just nice to be able to feel him. Their skin burned hot against each other, cozy like a warm cup of hot chocolate and a blanket but only a thousand times better.

It was definitely something worth getting used to.

Her head was nestled against his shoulder in a cliche way, the way that she had seen hundreds of times in movies that Tony forced her to watch.

"Have you got any plans today, Ziva?"

"None whatsoever."

"Excellent."

Judging by the sound of his voice, he was grinning.

Ziva mumbled under her breath with a slight shake of her head.

"Hebrew?" He slipped out from under her, moving so that he was supporting himself on his forearm. His face hovered over hers, and he was frowning slightly, "That's not a good sign. What did I do now?"

"I called you a cocky bastard," Ziva answered.

And it was true. The accusation was an extremely accurate one, especially taking the night they had into account. Ziva didn't necessarily mean it as vulgar as it sounded, though.

Tony was not a coy man in the least. When he knew what he wanted, he would pour every inch of his being into getting it, and once he knew he had it in his grasp - There was no stopping him. He was comfortable in his skin, and he knew just the right way to work his magic. Tony did absolutely nothing halfway, and he _knew_ he was good at what he did best.

"Oh." Tony didn't appear surprised. He flopped back onto the bed with a soft whoosh of the sheets, and Ziva settled back into her previous position on his shoulder as if nothing ever happened.

Ziva was curious. "You are not going to argue your case?"

He laughed, "Is there a point?"

"Is there?"

"Not if the information is true, dear." The matter-of-fact tone in his voice made her breathe a laugh. He _did_ know what she meant by calling him a cocky bastard.

"I will hold that comment against you."

"Naturally. I'll be feeling under the weather, and you'll suddenly pull a ninja move and pin me to a wall with a knife or something and say, 'Tony, do remember I what called you after a night of absolutely glorious, life-changing se -' "

Ziva threw a well-aimed punch to his ribs.

He yelped over-dramatically, rubbing his side, "Hands to yourself!"

"You deserved it that time, Tony," Ziva chided him casually. She rested her chin on his chest, arms draped lazily over his body.

"But it's true!"

Another punch was sent to his side. "So?"

He pouted childishly. "That hurt."

"I barely touched you."

"It _still _hurt."

"Baby."

"Kiss it better?"

He grinned hopefully, eyebrows waggling, and Ziva kept her face even.

"Absolutely not."

"Why?" he demanded.

"You are being _irritating_."

"Are not."

He laughed blissfully and grasped her arms to pull her to his face. One of his hands was at the nape of her neck, holding her in place. He growled teasingly, his breath hot against her lips, "If you won't kiss me, I'll kiss you."

His mouth was suddenly on hers, and Ziva tried her best to remain as still against him as possible. His hand travelled down the length of her body and grasped her bare thigh, right where her t-shirt ended. His fingertips drew patterns there, and her playful resolve was beginning to shatter. He didn't play fair. Tony was teasing her, knowing that she would give in eventually, and she did, shifting against him to be able to kiss him better.

She was straddling him, and he had her whimpering again because he was relentless in his attack on her senses. It made her push herself against him forcefully, and he reacted rather enthusiastically, his touches becoming more intense by the second.

_God, _he was into this.

Ziva found herself suddenly on her back, and the weight of his body over hers was absolute perfection. His mouth grew slower over hers in an attempt to slow things down, and she arched against him because he was being much too exemplary at controlling himself. He yanked away, and of course, he was grinning.

"Really, Ziva. Don't say things you can't follow through with," he said. Tony winked handsomely and pecked her cheek before moving to her mouth. He lingered there, and this kiss was like the first one. Slow, meaningful, emotional. She went with it because there really wasn't anything else to do.

He moved off her and rested on his stomach, chin resting on his arms so that his face was even with hers.

His eyes devoured her with a sharpness that made her want to squirm. The feelings shining in them were brutally sincere, and Ziva hoped that somehow he understood what she was feeling as well. There were so many emotions that were in her, and not one of them were negative. The thought of it made her bubble with hope. He wanted this more than anything, and Ziva would be lying if she said she didn't want it just as much. She wanted it - _needed _it.

"Hungry?"

She shook her head as he brushed her face delicately.

He wore a strange expression, one that she didn't fully recognize. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn't pinpoint the emotion behind it.

"What is it, Tony?" She reached over and touched his jaw in return, and he smiled fondly.

He took her hand in his, examining it and tracing her fingers while saying, "It's nothing. I just - I remembered something that I forgot until now."

"Do you mind sharing?"

Tony's eyes flickered up, and he shook his head, "I don't mind."

Licking his lips, he sat up on his forearm and touched her arm. Tony still seemed to be trying to get completely comfortable with contact, and Ziva was okay with that. He explained softly, not looking her in the eyes, "When I was a little boy, there would be days when I rushed into my parents' room. It was normally the morning after they came back from a date - They would leave me with a old lady who drank smelly tea."

He smiled at the memory, "I would run straight into their bed, right in between them, straight into mother's arms, and I think that, maybe, I would break their atmosphere."

Ziva shook her head immediately, casually running a hand through his soft hair. "I do not think so, Tony. I think that, given if I -" she stopped herself mid-sentence, backtracking because it wasn't the moment to bring up that topic. There were nowhere near ready for that conversation. "I think that you possibly made the atmosphere better because your parents adored you. Your father still does," she added for good measure.

Tony nodded thoughtfully, "Maybe you're right. I can't believe I forgot that. Now that I think about it, it's one of the things I remember about my mom the most."

He never spoke about his mother, and the look on his face was reminiscent and a little sad. Ziva was touched that he was sharing this intimate piece of his life with her. She wondered if he had ever told anyone at all about his childhood before her. After all, she knew for a fact that _she_ had not gone into detail about hers with anyone.

"How are you and your father getting along?"

"We're talking more. It's -" he struggled to find a word and settled with, "better. It's getting better."

"That is great, Tony. He loves you very much, you know. He talks about you, and there is a lot of pride behind it."

Tony looked amused, "Talking about me with my dad, huh?"

Ziva blushed, just a little, and Tony grinned triumphantly because it took a lot to evoke pink cheeks. She said nonchalantly, "Simple conversation, Tony."

"Okay," he grinned. "But, yes, my relationship with my dad is looking up. It's nice for a change."

After he said that, his face fell slightly, and she saw a question growing in his head. She knew the question that he had but didn't want to bring up because he wasn't sure if she wanted it to be asked. Ziva shook her head at him slightly, and there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes that meant he understood.

However, he mumbled quietly, voice ringing with compassion because he understood her situation more than anyone else, "You're not ready to try, are you, Ziva?"

She admitted, "I am not sure if he deserves it."

"I don't blame you, honestly."

"I know that _you_ do not, Tony."

"You blame yourself," he said simply.

His gaze was sharp, and Ziva didn't realize until then that he had been watching her more closely than she thought. Maybe she made it more obvious than she realized.

Her voice was a whisper, "Yes."

"You shouldn't. It isn't your fault. The way that this turned out _isn't_ your fault." His words were forceful.

"It was not his either." She couldn't bring herself look at him.

"I think he could have done _something._ He could have protected you, kept a better eye on you. _He could have gone after you, _Ziva. He left you there, one of his own agents and his _daughter_, there to rot and had _us_ come and save you. It was like he didn't care - You could have -" Tony's voice had grown into a fierce growl, and he stopped and changed his direction of words because _that _another something that didn't need to be discussed at the moment.

He swallowed before continuing in a more controlled but trembling voice, "To expect you to blindly follow him is a part of the job, yes, but you weren't just another agent for Mossad. I know that everything that happened was a part of the job, I'm not stupid, but I think that - He could have done something. You are his _kid, _for Christ's sake."

She gritted her teeth in an attempt to stop the tears that were attempting to fill her eyes. The memory of the events opened a wound that she had thought was beginning to heal. She murmured, "It is what it is."

"Hey," he took her chin and made her look at him. His gaze softened when he saw her watery eyes, and he said very softly, "It might be too late to change things, but you can always go forward. It'll a rocky road, but it's whatever you choose to do. I know he's your father and that he means a lot to you. No matter what, he's your father, for better or for worse, but I don't know if he deserves another chance either. Maybe, he does because he _is _your flesh and blood. It's your call, of course." He shrugged then in an attempt to lessen his words.

"Hopefully, it will eventually become clear," Ziva whispered, voice choked.

"But Tony," she swallowed so hard it hurt, "he was doing his job too."

He scooted close to her, placing his lips against her forehead, "I know, Ziva, and that's what makes it harder."

She was overcome by emotions that were both painful and strong, but the strongest of all was the affection she had for him. Why had she not come to him for help? Tony was much more understanding and observant than she ever imagined, and lying there, wrapped in his embrace, was the most surreal thing. It didn't hurt as much to think about her relationship with her father because Tony was there, steady and real and distracting. Snaking her arms around his neck because she suddenly needed to be reassured that he was truly with her, Ziva pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him harder than she had done previously.

His mouth was controlled against hers, and it rapidly made her frustrated.

"Enough of that, Tony," she commanded against his lips.

"Enough of what?" he asked, pulling away a little.

"Let yourself go, _please_," Ziva's voice was a little pleading, but she didn't care at all.

He tried to reason with her, and she knew what he would try to argue, "Ziva -"

"No, Tony," she cut him off, pecking his lips and speaking quickly, "I trust you."

The hand that was clenching her hip tightened of its own accord. His eyes darkened against the sunlight steaming into the room, and he asked once more, just to make sure, "You do?"

"More than anyone," she replied earnestly.

His response was a kiss that was so passionate and wild and utterly _loving_ that she almost lost it, right then and there.


	4. Four

Oh look, an even shorter one. I really should be studying for my exams though.

* * *

><p>"Ugh, I need a shower."<p>

Tony's quiet grumble made it clear that they simply couldn't just lie in bed all day, as inviting as the idea sounded. Knowing him, he was probably starving by now anyway. He sat up and stretched, wincing when his elbows cracked in protest. Tony gave her a fleeting look and mumbled something about old bones. Ziva snorted at him. He fished under the covers for his boxers and slipped them on before standing and grinning at her raised eyebrow.

"Goods like these need to be properly concealed until needed," he told her with a wink.

He yelped loudly and jumped out of the way when she chucked a pillow at his head. He appeared thoroughly entertained when he went to retrieve it. Tony tossed the pillow back half-heartedly with his face alight with blissful laughter. He scurried around to her side of the bed and leaned across it to kiss her, and Ziva didn't have any problem with it at all.

"Cheap shot," he murmured against her lips, running his thumb across the skin underneath her chin.

"I do not think so," she said, and in return, she touched his stubbly face softly.

"Care to join me in the shower?" Tony asked while he placed his hand on her upper thigh. He kissed her with more intensity then, and she gladly lost herself in the feeling.

When Tony pulled away, Ziva answered him, "As tempting as it sounds, I'll start breakfast."

He looked a little disappointed, but his expression fixed itself when he exclaimed, "Whoa! Offering to cook for me already? I've got myself a keeper!" Tony's voice was rather playful, but the expression on his face was a mixture of awe and bewilderment at his words, like he couldn't really believe it himself.

She understood the feeling all too well, and she brushed his hand with a feather-light touch.

He gave her one last look with emotional eyes before heading into her bathroom and pushing the door closed lightly, just enough that it was still cracked open a little. Ziva sat in her bed for a while longer, listening to Tony turn on the tap and let out a shout when the freezing water hit his skin.

Ziva snorted and figured that she probably should have told him that the water's temperature was notorious for dropping without warning.

She rose to her feet and stretched widely. Ziva picked up her discarded clothing from the night before, smirking a little at the memory of their haste in removing them. She picked up Tony's as well, pausing to note the pleasant smell of them before folding and placing them in a neat pile on the bed. She moved into her closet soundlessly, dropping her dirty clothes in the basket. She retrieved the pair of shorts and t-shirt that lay on top of the basket and pulled both articles of clothing on because as much as Tony would enjoy it, she wasn't going to walk around naked.

Though, she save the idea for later and was delighted that she would one day be able to indulge in the expression on his face when she would surprise him with the trick.

When she went back into her room, she realized that Tony was singing in the shower - Ziva partially wondered if it was for her benefit - and he didn't have a bad voice at all. It was pleasant, loud, and so undeniably him that it made her smile. She recognized the song as _Can You Feel the Love Tonight? _from the Lion King. She absolutely _adored _that movie, and she could quite vividly remember when he showed it to her. The smile on her face grew wider as she shook her head at nothing in particular.

Ziva seized a long pair of shorts and a light blue t-shirt from the bottom of a drawer, a part of her feeling extremely sneaky when she recalled how the articles of clothing had come into her possession in the first place. She could clearly imagine the look on his face when he would see the clothes. Her bare feet padded soundlessly against the wooden floor as she tiptoed to the bathroom that Tony was in. She pushed the door open just wide enough that she could slip inside.

Tony's form was visible in the steamy shower door but only barely. He stopped singing when she entered the bathroom, but he paid her no mind and switched to humming. Ziva rolled her eyes at him and knew that he was watching her carefully. She set the clothes down on the counter and brushed her teeth at the sink, and it wasn't long before Tony begun to sing again.

Ziva listened to his crooning voice until the steam made it impossible to see herself in the mirror. She forced herself to slip out of the room and retreat to the kitchen down the hall.

...

It wasn't long before Tony appeared at the kitchen table, wearing an extremely amused expression and the clothes she had set out for him. He didn't say anything in particular, but his eyes clung to her every movement. Ziva could feel them staring holes into her back as she moved about the kitchen, and the one time she turned around to look at him, Tony's eyes were completely unashamed of being caught. She purposely finished cleaning up slowly, just to make him wait longer, and the moment she took a seat across from him, words burst from his lips.

"I was looking for these!"

Tony wore a grin that seemed almost too big for his face.

"I didn't know that you decided to hold my favorite pair of shorts and my Mighty Mouse shirt hostage. I thought I left them in Paris, or I was going crazy. Honestly, if you wanted them badly enough that you had to steal them, you could have asked, you know."

Ziva didn't reply and filled her plate with eggs. She grabbed a piece of toast and took a chunk out of it before saying with a straight face, "They got mixed with my things when we were in Paris. I never found a way to return them."

"Likely story," Tony said skeptically with a smirk. He followed her example and started eating, but his gaze was focused on her. The bright expression on his face was magnetic and made her jittery with excitement. "What did you do with them, anyway?"

"I kept them in my drawer, of course. It was an accident, after all."

"Ziva, please," Tony scoffed. "We both know that you're lying through your teeth. So, what? Did you sleep in them?"

"And if I did?" She sent him a flirty smile, one that he had seen hundreds of times before.

He made a face in response. It was like he was trying to wipe an image out of his head, which was probably the case, anyway. His voice was a groan, and he massaged the bridge of his nose, "Oh, god. That's such a turn on."

Ziva couldn't help but laugh at him. She sighed in exasperation, "Do you mind thinking with your _other_ head for once?"

He snorted, "Yeah, right. It's not _my _fault that you keep teasing me. What do you expect me to do? Ignore you? Fat chance!" He scoffed and grinned a little. Shrugging, he continued as he played up his fork, "The clothes came came in handy, though. I was worried that I would have to make a run for my car in the nude." He winked.

"Your car?"

He rolled his eyes, "Ziva, I've got a week's worth of clothes of sitting in my trunk. You know, with all the road trips and mishaps and god-knows-whats. Once, I went a week and a half before ever stepping foot in my place because of Gibbs' insanity - I mean, surely you've got some in yours, too?"

"A week? I only have three days."

Tony laughed and said, "Lucky for you, worse comes to worst, you could always borrow a shirt from one of us." He drummed his fingers on the table idly."Well, it'd be a pain if I had to go run home because I didn't have clean underwear."

Ziva scoffed playfully, "Who said you could stay? I intended on kicking you out right after this."

He beamed, "I could leave right now, if you want, but I would go straight home and drown my sorrows in alcohol and be driven crazy and go run to Gibbs or McGee or Abby - and would you _really_ want that on your conscience?"

She clicked her tongue musingly. Ziva sighed in mock-exasperation, "I _suppose_ you can stay."

Tony was laughing then, and she joined in because really, they were basking in the thrill of the rebellion of finally being _together._

With that, he turned his attention to the steaming mug of coffee in front of him and took a trial sip of it. Deciding that it was safe, Tony took a larger gulp before setting it down. He wore a partially concealed smile when he forked at his food, and Ziva knew what he was thinking. She took pride in that she got the flavor right.

She had caught on to his little habits and tastes, too.

By the time he felt the need to speak, most of his plate was clear.

"What now?" he asked. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, but they quickly returned to his plate. It was a painfully honest question.

She peered at him, not knowing if he was trying to go somewhere with the question. "I do not know."

He made a sound of uncertainty, and there was an ounce of hesitation before he spoke slowly, "It doesn't matter to me," he stared at her, "but there's no turning back now, is there?"

She stiffened despite herself, and Tony saw it. He misread the action, and panic rose in his expression. His Adam's apple bobbed when he gulped stiffly. She spoke quickly to dispel his alarm, "That is an awfully dumb question, Tony. Of course there is no going back. I would not want to. Definitely not."

There was a second more before he sighed audibly. "Good," he said, relieved. Tony's shoulders slumped as if weight was lifted off of him. He smiled shyly at her while twirling his fork in his hand, "I'm completely okay with this."

"I am glad. It took us long enough."

He nodded in reply, "Too long, but better late than never. Forward is all we've got."

Tony let his words hang in the air optimistically while he drained his mug of its contents.

"Gibbs is going to kill us," he mentioned rather conversationally.

"Probably," Ziva agreed. She hadn't really thought about their boss, and she could see his reaction in her head. It could either be bad, really bad, or careless. The latter seemed like the best option, in her opinion.

Tony looked as if he wanted to bring something up, but he thought better of it and poked at his eggs. Thoughtfully, he said, "I think it's best that we keep this on the down low, just until we can figure out how to avoid getting chewed out by Gibbs."

"We are going to get 'chewed out' -" her fingers raised to put quotation marks around the words, and he grinned toothily at her, "either way, Tony."

"That's true, but - I think that we need to prove that we can balance this and work because -" Tony sighed and drummed on his empty mug, "Vance could very-well split us up if he gets wind of this, and I think it would be _really _inconvenient if we ended up opposite sides of the country."

"He would not," Ziva grumbled despite knowing the truth. "Not if he wants to live."

"Of course he would. He did it once, he can do it again," he said bitterly, though he looked a little entertained. Shrugging, Tony continued, "That's why he won't find out."

"Agreed." Ziva chewed her lip and twiddled her fork between her fingers before saying, "Abby will be pleased about us being..."

Tony let out a bark of a laugh, "Lord knows she will. She'll be a little hurt that she didn't find out right away, though."

"She'll insist on all the details."

"And I'll happily tell her them," Tony teased.

"I would not expect anything less."

Their gazes met, and neither looked away. The atmosphere in the room shifted slowly, and Tony's expression was a tender one, something he reserved for only her. His hand took hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. His expression grew concerned, and his voice dropped. He asked while eying the bruise on her neck with a frown, "How's your neck?"

"It is a little sore, not a big deal."

"I'll massage it for you."

Tony made a face at her raised eyebrow.

"Honestly, Ziva," he sighed with a small smirk, "Why do you _always _look surprised at me? I have a degree in phys-ed for a _reason_, you know."

Ziva shrugged and turned her palm up to squeeze his much larger, much rougher hand. She intertwined their fingers experimentally. Her fingers appeared almost frail between his, in need of protection. She looked up at him and murmured softly, "You're full of surprises."

...

"I used to come here with Danny," Tony explained as the two of them slid into a booth in a small, charming diner. He had insisted that the two of them get out of her apartment since they spent the entire day on her couch watching movies and getting to know each other - Not a friends or colleagues, but as a couple. Tony, being his restless self, decided to drag her up and drive across town just to go to grab food.

Ziva tilted her head at him from across the table. The reason why he wanted to go to this specific place because clear. "Did you?"

"Yeah," Tony said, not looking at her. He was hidden behind the menu in his hands, but he continued to speak, "We had tons of long beats, and we'd occasionally stop by here in the middle of the night to grab coffee and breakfast before going back out. They have the most _amazing_ apple pie, by the way."

Tony glanced around the diner. His eyes softened at the sight of the counter seats as memories of the past seemed to engulf him. "I haven't been here in a long time, actually. It hasn't changed a bit, though. I think I stopped coming when -" he stopped talking abruptly, like a thought suddenly came to his mind. It took him awhile before he finished his thought, "I stopped coming here after I left Baltimore. I never had the urge to come back until now."

She was curious, "How long has it been since you worked for Baltimore?"

Tony made a thoughtful sound. "Man," he rubbed the back of his neck and grinned at her, "It's been a ridiculously long time. It's been the better side of eight or nine years. Closer to nine, I think. God, time has flown."

She blinked at him in disbelief, nodding in agreement. "It has been six years for me."

"It's the longest I've ever stuck anywhere," Tony chuckled. "I haven't had a gig that I like as much as this one, and I've always figured - Why fix something that isn't broken?"

"To make it better," Ziva replied immediately with a glint in her eyes.

He gave her a long look before bursting into a slight smile. "Maybe there's an exception to the rule," he leaned in closer to her and dropped his voice, "Sure, we work just fine as partners and friends - but really, we were closer to friends with benefits than just _friends._"

"Too much flirting for it to be normal."

"Yeah. I don't see you going around flirting with Tim," Tony laughed at the strange thought. His expression sobered, "Fixing things to make them better. I like that."

"I would hope so," Ziva chuckled while she patted his scratchy cheek fondly. She pulled away from the table and glanced at the menu. She complained a moment later, "Everything on here is ridiculously greasy, Tony."

"Ziva," he sounded almost offended, "You know how I feel about greasy food."

"You know how _I_ feel about greasy food."

"You can run it off in the morning. I'll go with you, even."

"Puh. You? Running at five in the morning? I do not know if I can even be able to. There is a chance that this heart-attack-on-a-plate will kill me first."

"Ha!" Tony exclaimed, pointing a finger at her childishly. "Miss Ninja David doesn't get brought down by bombs or assassins or bullets, but by _one_ itty-bitty little pancake."

"Shut up, Tony."


	5. Five

It's a filler.

* * *

><p>"DiNozzo, nice of you to join us," Gibbs barked at his senior field agent without looking up from his computer.<p>

Tony partially wondered how Gibbs knew it was him but dismissed the thought because it was _Gibbs_ for Christ's sake. He scurried into the bullpen and to his desk, peeling off his gear while grinning sheepishly, "Sorry, boss. Monday morning - You know how it is." Tony swooped down to start up his computer.

"No, I don't," Gibbs replied shortly. He tapped at his keyboard, still not giving his agent even the slightest of glances.

"This is pretty late, Tony, even for you," Tim McGee piped in from behind his desk. He was flipping through a report, one that Tony would eventually have to read as well. He nodded toward the empty desk across from Tony, "But it's out-of-character for Ziva."

His eyes flickered to over to her untouched desk before they focused on McGee. Tony said more defensively than he intended, "She probably got held up while fighting crime with her ninja powers."

"Funny - I can't believe the both of you decided to take Friday off." Tim's eyebrows were raised in suspicion.

"And you didn't?" Tony asked him incredulously. He froze in his spot, head tilted in confusion.

"Nope."

He swallowed before laughing lightly, trying to stray away from the topic, "Ha, McGee. Had nothing better to do with your day off?"

Tim glared daggers at him and turned his attention to his beeping computer.

Tony took it upon himself to pull out his phone. Putting against his ear, he leaned against his desk and stared intently at the elevator, a familiar feeling in his gut. The corners of his mouth were tugging upward, and the phone rung once before the elevator dinged and slid open. A slightly frazzled looking Ziva stepped out of it immediately.

He smiled triumphantly and snapped his phone shut. Crossing his arms playfully, Tony couldn't help but call out, "Morning, Miss Tardy-Pants."

She reached her desk before scoffing, "You just got here." Ziva didn't give him a second look as she dropped her pack into the corner and slid into her seat. She finally looked up at him with dark, bright eyes that made his heart flutter unhealthily. There was a mischievous sparkle in them, something familiar but strangely more intimate than before.

Tony's eyebrows raised in surprise with a crooked smile. "How'd you know that?"

"You're not working on anything, but then again, you never are," she teased him with a flirty expression that wasn't out of character. Ziva glanced around the bullpen observantly. "Good morning, McGee, Gibbs."

Tim gave her a slight wave. He said brightly, "Morning, Ziva."

Gibbs gave her a slight nod in acknowledgement - Somewhere between the time he scolded Tony and when Ziva walked in, he received a phone call.

"How was your weekend?" Tim asked innocently.

She sent Tony a slight smirk before answering McGee, "Very relaxing. It has been a very long few weeks, after all."

"Definitely, definitely," McGee agreed with a friendly nod.

Ziva rolled her eyes at his characteristic obliviousness.

Tony realized that he was staring and forced himself to take his eyes off her face. It felt as if he could look forever, and it wouldn't be anywhere near enough. Despite spending the entire weekend together, but he wished it was longer. Inwardly, he winced at how ridiculous he sounded and firmly decided that he would take a break from the romance movies. He moved behind his desk and took a seat with a sigh.

Her eyes caught a hold of his briefly, and she smiled shyly at him.

Tony chuckled and savored the fluttering feeling in his chest and checked his email.

"Not going to ask me about my weekend, McGee?" Tony accused loudly while he clicked through mundane agency updates, "Am I not important anymore?"

"Sure, I'll humor you. How was your weekend, Tony?" McGee's voice was thick with fake excitement.

Ziva glanced up with an entertained expression.

"Absolutely amazing," Tony said gleefully with a furtive glance at Ziva, but he didn't elaborate, "Thanks for asking, Tim."

The younger man rolled his eyes at Tony's childishness. "Not a problem."

"And yours, McGeek?"

"Uneventful."

"Naturally. Curl up with your typewriter and write about Amy and McGregor - Or maybe very Special Agents Tommy and Lisa?"

McGee looked partially annoyed and didn't reply.

"Very low of you, Tony," Ziva chided in amusement.

"He makes a fortune off of it," he said, shrugging off her comment. "It's all in good fun."

"Isn't it always?" McGee grumbled quietly.

Tony was about to make a loud remark regarding McGee's sense of humor, and his mouth was already open with a word ready to tumble out when another stern, authoritative voice cut him off.

"Special Agent DiNozzo."

Everyone's eyes whipped toward the staircase, even Gibbs who still had a phone attached to his ear. Director Vance was leaning over the top balcony, eyes sharp and narrowed at them as a group. Tony stood a beat after he heard his name, wiping his face of the amusement that had been present just a moment earlier. He took large strides toward the stairs and sent Ziva a sideways glance as he moved past her, shaking his head slightly.

Ziva watched Tony jog up the stairs and greet the director with a sharp nod. His face was smooth and professional, a front that Tony only put up when he needed to. She had the aching suspicion that Tony knew why Vance had called him up, and that suspicion made a sinking feeling rise in her stomach. The two disappeared, neither of them speaking a word, into the director's office.

"What was that about?" McGee asked, his eyes flickering between Gibbs and Ziva.

"Damned if I know," Gibbs grumbled quietly. His eyes were narrowed at the place where Vance stood, and he mumbled something that Ziva could only faintly hear, "He's on thin ice."

She hoped that Gibbs meant Vance, not Tony.

Ziva shook her head immediately at the thought.

It was Vance, always Vance.

...

Tony descended the stairs two at a time, and there was a suspended second where Ziva was relieved to finally see him, but the short-lived relief disappeared upon closer inspection. From afar, Ziva could already pinpoint the tension in his body. Tony stood straighter than usual, there was more snap in his step, and he didn't look anyone he passed in the eye. He took a seat in his chair swiftly, greeting Ziva with a curt, stony nod. His chest rose high. Tony was taking deep breaths.

Ziva searched his eyes for any indication of what happened, and she was met with a stoic and smooth expression. It told her everything she needed to know.

Underneath his emotionless eyes was the familiar churning storm of emotions. She couldn't tell what he happened, but whatever it was, it made him angry. Ziva couldn't make out how angry he really was because without her realizing it, he became very good at hiding his emotions. However, the slightly rigid edge to his movements was nearly invisible to a stranger's eyes, but even from across the bullpen she could see the muscles in his hand flexing menacingly in his clenched fist.

He allowed her to evaluate him, and he never once looked away.

Ziva quickly scanned their surroundings. The squad room was, for the most part, empty - Most agents were either out in the field or had unanimously decided that it was lunch hour. Gibbs and McGee were nowhere to be found, and the handful of people in the room were out of an earshot.

It was now or never.

She simply raised an eyebrow at him in a silent question, and he understood.

Tony stood slowly and marched over to her, moving behind her desk. He leaned back on it, his body close to hers but not touching, and his eyebrows were pulled together with tension. There was a loud thud from his palms slapping down on the surface of her desk, and Ziva now understood how frustrated he really was. He stared at the opposite wall while he said with a low and seething voice, "I'm not allowed to tell you."

She swallowed hard and pushed herself back in her seat to look at his face. She chair slid back a couple of inches, and his face still lacked the emotion that was now painfully obvious in his bright eyes. Fear rose in her chest because she knew what he meant - He couldn't tell her and that could only mean one thing. It was exactly what she had been fearing the entire time he was with Vance.

"Undercover?" she croaked, and he nodded grimly in reply.

Finally, he looked at her, and the anger in his eyes vanished. It was replaced by something else, something tender and fearful, and it made her feel uneasy. Ziva was pretty sure that she preferred an angry Tony compared to a genuinely fearful one. If he was angry, he could fight it out, shout until he felt better, but if there was something to fear, there wasn't much either of them could do to ease the anxiety.

He looked as if he wanted to touch her, but he thought better of it. His palm shifted on her desk, and his hand was now dangerously close to one of hers. She wanted him to reassure her, to tell her not to worry and to pull her close to him because he wanted to, because he could. There was nothing left between them, and to have another bombshell dropped right when they pulled themselves together was the kind of bad luck that she had expected all along.

Things always seemed too good to be true.

"It's not like the last time." It almost sounded like he was trying to reassure himself.

"Does Gibbs know?"

Tony gave her a dutiful, guilty look.

"Stupid question," she whispered.

"_You're_ not even supposed to know," Tony said, shaking his head. He brushed his thumb over hers once. A part of her eased at his touch.

"Let's get lunch, Tony," Ziva whispered desperately. This could be nothing, nothing at all, but she didn't think she could wait to hear about it.

He shook his head stubbornly. "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not a big deal right now. We'll talk about it tonight. I'll tell you what I can over dinner."

"_Please_?" She didn't intend to plead but after the word left her lips, it couldn't be taken back.

Tony winced as if he was in physical pain and raised a briefly hand to tap below her chin. Sometime over the weekend, it had become an endearing habit that made her feel better. Tony was the only one to ever do that to her, and she liked the idea of it. Somehow, there were thousands of meanings behind it, and she understood which one he was trying to convey.

Softly, he murmured as if he were trying to lull her to sleep, "Later, Ziva. Please. It'll be hard to tell you and then have to come back into work. Besides, I have to figure out what I _can_ tell you."

His argument was a good one, so she asked, equally quiet, "Are you sure you want to tell me?"

He nodded and nudged her knee with his. He murmured meaningfully with a slight smile, "I can't lie to you." He held her gaze with a serious and genuinely caring expression for a moment longer before he burst into a strained grin and straightened. His voice returned to its normal volume, echoing in the quiet squad room even though it still had a gentle edge to it, "I'll go grab takeout. What're you in the mood for?"

Any remnants of her hunger had disappeared at his confession - or lack of it - so she shrugged in reply, "Your choice."

"Ah, I'll go grab subs, then," he said, oblivious to the questions gnawing at the back of her mind - or, more accurately, choosing to ignore the questions he knew she had. Tony tousled her hair casually, a more genuine smile playing on his face, and returned to his desk. While rummaging through his drawers, he asked in a friendly way, "Did I miss anything? Or is it one of our few quiet days?"

"Just catching up on paperwork."

He snorted in sarcasm, "Fun. That means I've fallen even more behind."

Tony glanced up just as McGee walked into the bullpen. "McGee - Food?"

"I don't have any, Tony," McGee replied automatically without looking at him.

Tony sighed in exasperation while checking his phone. He stood in the center of the bullpen, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in impatience. "No, Tim, do you want lunch? I'm going to pick something up."

McGee's eyes were suspicious. Slowly, he said, "You're asking me if I want food."

"Is that a statement or a question, McGoober, because I can't really tell," Tony snapped. He took a deep breath and decided that McGee didn't deserve the effects of his frustration. He asked in a more civil manner, "Do you want anything or not?"

"Sure. Food sounds good as long as you don't poison it," McGee said with surprise leaking into his voice.

"Wouldn't think of it," Tony mumbled as he headed toward the elevator. He winked at Ziva as he passed, and it wasn't uncommon, but somehow, it felt a little more dangerous than usual, seeing that they were actually together now.

McGee waited until Tony was gone before asking pointedly, "What's gotten into him?"

"Hm?" Ziva pulled herself from her thoughts and turned her attention to McGee.

McGee repeated his question and added, "When does he ever offer food?"

Ziva shrugged nonchalantly and answered her internal question more than his, "Maybe he is trying to change things."

"Huh. Not bad."

"Not at all," she agreed softly.

...

"Wow, are you done already?" Ziva asked in surprise after she opened her door to find the grinning Tony DiNozzo.

"That's why I'm here."

He took a step closer to her, making her back out of the doorway, and closed the door tightly. Towering over her, his grin grew impossibly wider, and he was in an extremely close proximity. Ziva thought fleetingly of Friday night and how blissfully similar the scene was. Tony swiftly pulled her into his arms.

Ziva eased into the embrace and inhaled against his shoulder, savoring the lingering smell of his colleague while her arms snaked around his chest. Tony held her tightly for a moment before he moved away a little, and his nose was skating along the skin of her cheek, his lips planting light, feathery kisses as he did.

He whispered against her, "This is going to be harder than I thought."

"How so?" she asked breathily as Tony's attention moved to her neck.

"I couldn't concentrate."

His lips paid extra attention to the bruise from Jonas, and he was affectionately gentle about his actions. She could feel the warmth behind his kisses and his tongue darted out on that patch of skin playfully, and it took awhile for Ziva to be able to speak again.

"You are concentrating just fine right now," Ziva pointed out in a strained voice.

He barked a laugh and pulled away to look at her face. Their faces were teasingly close, and there it was again - The affectionate gesture that he had taken a liking to. Tony's hand reached up to take hold of her chin very gently, and he caressed the skin beneath her chin with his thumb. Then in a smooth motion, his lips were on hers, and the fact that they were familiar made her happy. They were no longer uncharted territory, and Tony's kiss was characteristically breathtaking and tender.

He smiled when he drew away, saying, "Best part of my day." Tony grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall like a child, adding cheekily with a glance over his shoulder, "At least, so far." He winked, and Ziva couldn't help but laugh.

"It smells amazing," Tony said as soon as the two of them entered her kitchen. He released her hand and went to the sink.

Once he was done washing his hands, she nudged him out of the way with her hip, and he flicked water from his dripping hands into her face. Ziva rolled her eyes playfully and did the same to him.

"Very mature," she sniffed, rubbing the water of her face with her arm.

Tony wiped the water from his nose and chuckled, "Always." He pecked her cheek and moved away.

He pulled two plates from her cabinet and grabbed forks from the drawer beside the stove before snatching the steaming bowl of pasta and placing all of the items on the table. Ziva took a seat across from him, and Tony placed one of the plates in front of her. He waited patiently for her to get her share of the food before shoveling pasta onto his plate.

It seemed like he was forcing himself to eat slowly.

"Hungry?" She asked him with an amused glint in her eyes.

"Famished," Tony answered between bites. He swallowed and winced a little before saying, "Thanks, Ziva. Really. I would have starved before I got home and made something to eat."

"I doubt it," Ziva deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Thanks, anyway," he insisted. Tony stood and returned to the table with two glasses of water. He knocked his back and drained the entire glass in one go.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"When I bought us lunch."

Ziva glanced at the clock at the wall. It was eight-thirty. "You haven't eaten since ten?"

"Nope. I was trying to finish everything up so I could get here at a reasonable hour." Tony shrugged and placed a large forkful of pasta in his mouth.

"Sweet of you." She pointed her fork at him lazily.

He chuckled, "Thanks."

Tony went through two plates before he felt full and placed his fork down on his plate with an essence of conclusiveness about it. He gathered their dirty dishes and pushed them to the other side of the table and out of the way. Tony leaned toward her, resting his elbows the table and letting his chin fall onto his fists. Tony was giving her a searching look.

She waited for him to speak.

"I didn't ask for it. I was cornered."

"I thought so. I did not think that you would willingly take another undercover assignment."

Tony winced a little at the memory and quickly changed the subject, "The past is in the past, but you're right. I wouldn't willingly take it." He sighed a little and ran a hand through his hair. It stuck up on the top of his head, and it looked like it did in the bar just a few night prior. "The new SecNav cornered me."

"You are kidding."

"At first, I rejected his offer, but he then started to play low. He technically didn't threaten me, but he very pointedly asked me why I've stuck around D.C. so long. He mentioned a position in the middle of fucking Africa that needed to be filled. He said I'd be great for the job since I've grown too comfortable here."

Tony huffed angrily.

"I had no choice but to agree."

Ziva frowned. The new SecNav was starting off on the wrong foot, but she should have figured - Politicians cared for nothing except their own agendas. But then, Ziva remembered Jenny and shook her head because at the end of the road, Jenny was one of them - an agent, and one of the damn best ones she had ever set eyes on.

She pulled her thoughts away from Jenny and asked softly, "Is it dangerous?"

Tony shook his head slightly, "I don't foresee it being anything like that. It's just a lot of snooping around and making new friends." The frown on his face grew into a grimace. "God, I hate this."

"I am sure."

He pursed his lips and said, "I wish I could tell you more."

"You cannot. I understand."

"It doesn't make it any better."

"No."

He sighed.

"But it is our jobs. I have no choice but to understand."

He sat there thoughtfully and reached across the table to rub the inside of her wrist in silence. Tony said finally, "I'll get it done as soon as I can, and it'll be the end of it."

"It will not be a big deal."

He agreed, increasing the pressure of his caress, "No big deal."

Ziva sighed and knew that it was the end of the discussion. She asked, "Today was not too bad, right?"

"We weren't less professional than usual," Tony chuckled and continued, "but considering that we aren't professional with each other at all, even before, it's not much of an accomplishment."

She smirked with a certain mischievousness, "It was an accomplishment considering that I wanted to undress you all day. There is a large difference between jeans and a t-shirt compared to a suit and tie."

Tony stared at her with his mouth open disbelief and his heart jumping in his throat before he swallowed hard to clear it out. He said shakily despite his cool playboy persona, "That can be arranged, Miss David. Naughty," he added, "Very naughty. I'm impressed."

"Tony," she said seriously, "you have not even seen naughty."

The look on his face made her smirk grow wider, and it was so damn flirtatious and provocative that Tony was positive that he could die right there. His heart was threatening to burst, and they hadn't even done anything yet.

Weakly, he said, "You're enjoying this _way_ too much."

Ziva laughed at him and took his hands in hers, and Tony was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft girlishness of them, and she tugged him to his feet and lead him down the hall with the utmost confidence in herself that made Tony want to faint on the spot.

And god, it was only Monday.


	6. Six

Inevitably, they fell into a pattern. Days turned into a week, and the wondrous honey-moon stage drifted away. An intimate level of comfort took its place, and it had settled between them like it belonged there all along. It was funny, really - After all the years of bickering, the solution to the problem was to get together. They got along far better as a couple, and the effect even carried over to the office.

There was a slight shift. Not only did they not bicker (rather, they bantered), the duo fell in sync with each other. Sure, they were a great partners before, but with this new level of understanding, their efficiency soared to new heights. However, if Gibbs and McGee noticed it the change, they didn't say a word.

Midway through the second week_, _Ziva strolled out of her room with damp hair and a loose t-shirt clinging to her back. She found Tony sitting cross-legged in the middle of floor, holding a case file up and cupping his chin with his other hand. His face was contorted from concentration with lines on his forehead and a deep-set frown on his lips, but otherwise, the way he was sitting made him appear very young.

When she told him to keep himself entertained, she didn't think that going over the case was one of the options.

Without hesitation, Ziva approached him. She swooped down to grab the remote and mute the episode of Friends that he let play in the background. Taking a seat next to him, she dropped her chin on his shoulder and scanned over the page he was staring at. She let one of her legs drape over his and a hand fall on his thigh so that she could lean in more and get a better view of the page.

The violation of his personal space made his eyes flicker over to her, but he thought anything of it and continued to examine the file.

"There's something we're missing," Tony said. He flipped to the next page with his eyebrows pulling impossibly closer in frustration. "I can't figure out what it is, though. Once I find it, I think it'll solve this."

He added, "_If _I can find it."

"Perhaps you need to take a step back, Tony," Ziva told him, running a hand through his undone hair. It was still a little wet from the shower he took earlier in the night. "Recharge your battery. It will still be here in the morning."

His eyes were still on the page, reading it over. Silent words were playing on his lips while he racked his brain for the missing piece of the puzzle. There were several beats before Tony finally sighed in defeat, "All right."

He set the file down on the coffee table. Shifting to face her, Tony now gave her his undivided attention, still cross-legged and looking extremely boyish. His face was in the process of easing back to its normal, bright and grinning self. He asked, "Have a nice shower?"

"Of course," she winked. Ziva reached over to pull his hand into her lap. She played with his fingers, her smile lingering as she asked him, "Are you staying over tonight?"

Tony rubbed his neck with his free hand thoughtfully, swaying back and forth in his spot. "Want me to?"

Ziva liked that there wasn't any sexual implications and that it was what it was - Simply a question. She answered, "I always do."

He chortled and rose to his feet. Tugging her up as well, he said, "I'll save that one for blackmail, Miss David."

After her feet were planted firmly on the ground, Tony pulled her onto the couch with him, and he very skillfully made it so that she landed snugly against his side. He snatched the remote off the table and turned up the volume on the television casually. It took him several seconds before he realized that she was staring at him. Innocently, he asked, "What?"

"Have you practiced that, Tony?" Ziva laughed into his shoulder, earning her a wide grin from him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased with his fingertips brushing her arm delicately as he spoke. He grinned cockily, "But if you must - No, I haven't practiced that. It's natural."

"Puh!" She huffed at him playfully, and he tapped below her chin in response.

His gray-green eyes were bright, even under the dim lighting. He held her gaze, and his expression changed into something tender. She opened her mouth to say something - she didn't know what - but he suddenly looked away, and the moment was gone.

Ziva stared at his profile. The emotion on his face made her jittery with elation and an ounce of fear, but she dismissed the feeling. It had been clear from the very beginning of their relationship, and it was simply one of the many things they had decided not to speak of yet.

Yet.

They tap-danced around the important, forever-looming topics, never not mentioning them but never directly talking about them either. For now, tap-dancing was enough. The mutual level of understanding was enough to hold down the fort.

She settled next to him with their legs tangling together on the coffee table. Tony idly flipped channels until he settled on a showing of X-Men. Ziva couldn't remember which one it was, but she didn't want to ask. He was silent - After spending most of her time with him, she realized that Tony was completely content with staying quiet in her company. The evenness of his breathing was lulling her to sleep, and it wasn't long before she slid down farther on the couch to get in a better position against him.

It took even less time for her eyes to flicker closed.

...

He was awoken by a sharp impact to his side.

Tony yelped loudly in surprise. He blinked rapidly to make his vision clear up and he groped around for his gun, and his mind was working at a million miles per hour. There was another bastard out to kill him and why didn't he see this coming and where the _fuck_ was his gun and maybe this was finally the end and _oh _- Ziva was whimpering against his shirt.

The throbbing in his side was the result of a blow from Ziva. His tension disappeared for a fraction of a second, but panic set in a beat later. Tony gathered his arms around her, pulling her close, whispering in her ear with his voice hoarse from sleep, "Ziva - Ziva, wake up."

She jolted awake, kicking him hard in the shin in alarm. With a surprising amount of strength, she pushed his against his chest, thrashing wildly, and she was shouting at him - "Let go - _Let go!"_ Tony released her instinctively with his heart caught in his throat. She landed on the floor with a hard smack, and she scrambled to her feet. Ziva flew across the room, her back against the wall, wide-eyed and trembling and horrified.

Tony was gasping for air, and he was frozen in his spot. He took a deep breath and stood very slowly, ignoring the pain in his shin. He tried to stand fully, but his leg threatened to give out under him, so he braced himself on the arm of the couch. With his palms out toward her and his voice soft but shaky, he said soothingly, "Ziva - It's me. It was just a dream, love."

He watched her eyes widen in recognition as he spoke, and she let out a strangled cry.

Tony's stomach dropped to the floor at the sound, and he took a limping step toward her, but Ziva was quicker. She threw herself against him so forcefully that he almost lost his balance. She pressed her face into his neck, and her legs were shaking enough that Tony was practically holding her up. Nails were digging into his back painfully, but he didn't care and gripped her back just as hard. Whatever she dreamt about really rattled her, and Ziva - strong-willed, resilient, _amazing_ Ziva was broken again, and the pain of that made him sick. The physical pain he could deal with - The nausea was overpowering.

His heart still felt like it could burst from his chest at any second, but it was starting to slow. He pressed his lips to her hair and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the sick feeling in his stomach to go away. He managed to murmur, "You're all right. No one's gonna hurt you - You're right here. It was just a dream, Ziva. Just a dream."

Her response was an even tighter grip around him.

Carefully, he eased them back onto the couch, but she refused to let go of him. She had her shirt fisted in her hands, and Tony didn't dare try to untangle them. He couldn't even if he wanted to, and he _didn't_ want to. So, he sat there patiently with her practically on his lap, and he continued to whisper a stream of incoherent words of comfort because he didn't know what else to do.

His brain wasn't forming a single thought - The swirling emotions in his chest and the shaking woman in his arms kept him preoccupied.

With a hand at her back, he waited until her trembling slowed. Ziva pulled away from him, looking just as frightened as before, and her eyes were bloodshot. He finally registered the wet spot on his shirt and put two and two together. The nausea sweeping through him increased, and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out. Tony choked, "You're all right, Ziva."

He took a hold of her face, his fingers at the nape of her neck. Tony let his thumb brush against her cheek, and he repeated with steady eyes, "You're all right. Fine. I'm here, okay?"

Ziva nodded, and Tony knew that she didn't trust herself enough to speak.

He couldn't blame her. Hell, he could barely talk.

Gingerly, he pressed his lips against hers, suddenly overcome with the urge to feel her. He didn't push boundaries - He wasn't a complete dick, and he couldn't even _imagine _something like that right now - Besides, he almost never pushed his luck, but right now, he made an extra effort to put meaning behind the action. Tony just had to be reassured - Of what, he wasn't sure, but the feeling of her soft lips, steady and damp and _here_, made him feel a bit better, and he hoped that she felt the same.

Tony pulled away and stared at her face with emotions he couldn't even begin to describe bottling up in the center of his chest.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, eyes downcast.

Shock made his pulse skyrocket again.

"No," he growled sternly, gently turning her face and making her look at him, "Not your fault. Don't be sorry."

Ziva simply nodded at him, and it looked as if tears were threatening to overtake her again. His caressing increased as Tony tried not to wince at the realization. He asked plainly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head immediately, ducking into the skin of his neck, and Tony nodded fervently, not pushing the subject. He waited awhile before he pulled her to her feet, and he was relieved when he saw that she was steady on them. Tony took her hand wordlessly and lead them down the dark hall. He tried not to make his limp too obvious, and a part of him hoped that he'd be able to walk right in the morning. She didn't need to feel guilty about his battle scars, too.

Tony continued to tug her until she stepped into her room. He steered her towards her bed.

He slipped under the covers beside her and lay on his back. The silence was heavy with unsaid things that neither of them wanted to bring up. Softly, he told her, "You ought to go back to sleep. The both of us should, really."

"I can't." Tony agreed with her silently but knew that she couldn't have her way with this one. She sounded child-like, and if it were a different circumstance, Tony would have smiled.

"Try to. Come'on, you know we've got a long day tomorrow," Tony chided, strangely being the voice of reason for once. He let her get as close as she wanted to him, and she instinctively curled against his side. Despite everything, the intimate action made a wave of pleasure sweep through him. He rubbed her back again, and eventually, her body eased at the touch.

He said nothing more. He couldn't think of anything he could possibly say to make things better.

Tony continued to sweep his hand along her skin because it slowly but surely got her to relax. At some point, Ziva slid a hand up to rest it over the spot where his chest rose and fell as he breathed. And later, all the tension disappeared from her body, and Tony could pinpoint the exact moment when her eyes closed.

Tony knew that it took at least an hour in total before she fell asleep.

It took several more for sleep to overtake him, and even then, it was spotty and broken. He was too distracted by the sound of her even breathing and the feeling of it on his neck and the relentless pounding of her heart against his ribs, and god, the terrified look on her face wouldn't get out of his head. It threatened to haunt him, and he knew that one day, it probably would.

However, the one thing that had him lying awake in the darkness more than anything was the beautiful realization that she was _alive. _She was damaged, hurt, and desperately trying to pick up the shattered pieces, but she was also _alive _and with him. And ultimately, they could deal with everything else as it came.

Tony could not recall ever being this thankful for anything.

...

"You look like hell."

"Thanks, McGee," Tony barked with a snide smile. Ziva had made it into the office before him even though they left at the same time, but it didn't surprise him in the least. Tony sent her a furtive glance, rubbing his eyes wearily. He plopped down into his chair and started typing.

"Mind if I ask the reason?"

"I do mind, thanks," Tony answered conversationally without looking at him.

Tony suddenly felt remorse for all the times he prodded into Tim's life when he heard, "What, Tony? A bad night with a girl?"

Apparently, Ziva thought the same thing because she hissed from across the bullpen, "You are rubbing off on him."

McGee heard this and defended himself, pointing at Tony, "It's just a question. I've gotten much worse from him."

He wasn't irritated with McGee before, but his stupid comment and entire damn situation sent Tony over the edge. He stopped typing abruptly, and his fingers curled into enraged fists unconsciously.

A loud, angry remark was on the tip of his tongue, but Ziva and the concealed circles under her eyes gave him a warning look that made his temper deflate on sight. Tony took a deep breath and forced himself to say civilly, "Look - It was just one of those nights, Tim. Nothing you need to be concerned about."

McGee sensed the hostility, and being the smart man he was, nodded in reply and returned to his work.

Tony glanced at Ziva the moment he knew McGee wasn't watching.

She was looking right at him and had a frown planted on her face. Tony recognized the expression, and he shook his head at her desperately, willing her to understand him. He mouthed to her, "Don't worry about it."

Reluctantly, Ziva nodded.

...

At the very last moment, McGee was pulled back into the office by Abby about some geeky, computery, decryptiony mumbo-jumbo having to do with their dead Petty Officer's desktop. Because of this, Tony was now accompanied by Ziva to go do a series of interviews.

They were about a mile away from the Navy Yard when Tony reached up and turned the volume of the soft music all the way down, keeping his eyes on the road as he did.

Tony felt her eyes on him and gave her a sideways glance, "Are you okay?"

She nodded once. "I am fine."

His eyes narrowed at the road. Ziva watched his fingers begin to drum restlessly on the steering wheel. "You want to talk about it?"

"It doesn't matter, Tony. It was just a dream."

"It does matter, Ziva," his voice was soft because he let the weight of his emotions seep into his words. "It does. You were really shaken up."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Stop shooting that word around, would you?" Tony snapped, and he regretted it because a second later he added quietly, "I - Sorry."

He came to a stop at a red light and studied her face. His expression was worried and distressed, and his lack of sleep wasn't helping anything. Tony said rigidly, "You don't have to tell me. It's fine, I get it. I don't blame you. But, don't you _dare_ say that it doesn't matter. It does, Ziva. It does."

The lights changed, and Tony remained silent for several blocks.

"How often?"

Her voice was so quiet that he had to strain to hear her, "Not as much as before. Once in a blue moon."

"Hey, you got it right this time," Tony murmured softly. He peered at her through the corner of his eye, "Thanks for the warning. Next time, I'll make sure I'm blocking myself."

Ziva winced, and he immediately realized that he shouldn't have brought it up. Despite his hopes, he woke up in the morning with a bigger limp than before, and she was horrified that _she _caused it. Tony meant for his comment to be playful, but it didn't come out the way he intended, and she told him regretfully, staring out her window, "I'm sorry, Tony."

"There's _nothing _to be sorry about."

Her voice was trembling, and she still wouldn't look at him, "Yes, there is - I - I'm damaged goods and -"

Tony couldn't bare this, and he cut her off, "Oh, _shut up_. I _know_ what I signed up for, love."

Ziva stopped her apology in its tracks.

She peered at him from the passenger's seat, and when they finally hit another red light, Tony turned to her and said earnestly, "I know what I signed up for. There's no need for an apology. The bruises? I've had worse from knocking into a table."

They both knew it was a lie, but Ziva's face lit up with a hint of a smile, nonetheless.

Ziva felt a rush of affection and gratefulness toward him, and right now, she couldn't think of a single instance of ever feeling so strongly for a person.

"Thank you," Ziva choked out, her throat catching from emotion.

Tony caught wind of the feelings radiating from her and was overpowered by the weight of them. He leaned over to kiss her, unable to contain himself. She had to understand how much he _cared, _and he wondered if she knew the kind of hold she had over him - She must know, right?

Their lips touched only for a brief second before a loud honking sound from the car behind them made him jerk away and focus on the road once more.

As he sped down the street, she pointed out with a steadier voice that still wasn't quite normal, "We are still technically at work, you know."

"No one's here," Tony shrugged. His voice was gruffer than usual, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel it. He let their conversation grow casual again because they _were_ at work, after all. "Though, I wouldn't be surprised if they had the car bugged."

"Neither would I."

"Hm. Guess that means we can't break protocol today."

She snorted in amusement, "When do we ever break protocol?"

Tony barked a laugh. "You know us. Our team is like a moving hazard for breaking protocol, Miss Look-At-Me-Wrong-I'll-Break-Your-Arm."

"That was _once!_"

"Ha."

It was several more blocks before Ziva gave him a weird look.

Tony glanced at her. "What?"

"You have gotten found of an... endearment." It took her several seconds to find the right word.

"What?" Tony repeated, frowning at her and looking away from the road for the dozenth time.

"You know."

Tony tilted his head in confusion, and Ziva felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach. "I do?"

"You don't know?"

"No?"

Ziva sighed loudly, and it suddenly clicked, and Tony started laughing loudly.

Through his amused laughing, he admitted, "Sorry - It was a spur of the moment sort of thing - panic-induced. I've been watching a lot of British movies lately. I could have just as easily called you sweetheart or darling or - You know me, I've got a thing for old movies. Slip of the tongue."

"Cute," Ziva told him, amused.

"Why, of course, my dear, anything for you," Tony said jokingly, puffing out his chest and impersonating an accent. It actually wasn't that bad. He spoke towards the road in front of him, but the effect of his foolery still made Ziva laugh. "Darling, you should know that I'd do anything."

Even though he was joking, the truth rung out in his words. He often hid the truth in his playfulness, and Ziva had known this for years. She reached over and squeezed his forearm, murmuring appreciatively, "I know."

Tony sent her a meaningful sideways glance, grinning boyishly.

"You always do, my dear," he chortled and squeezed her hand in return.

And that was that.


	7. Seven

We're getting to the good stuff soon, I swear.

* * *

><p>When EJ Barrett strolled into the squad room bright and early on a Monday morning, the entire damn place seemed to fall into a hush. It was enough to make Ziva look up from her desk in confusion and stand to inspect the problem, and despite all her training, she couldn't hold back a smug smirk at the sight of the agent. The unmistakable murmur of gossip floated through the air, but none of it was distinct enough for Ziva to pinpoint. Barrett was immediately bombarded by well-wishers and pryers, and after one left, another took their place.<p>

After all, one of her team members was dead, and the other one was still in critical condition.

Ziva was pretty certain that if she was in her place, she would have broken each person's arm, but that was just her.

She watched Barrett's slow progression for a good thirty seconds before she remembered that Tony had been in the bullpen with her. Ziva glanced behind her to look at his desk and barked a laugh when she realized that Tony had disappeared the moment he saw who entered the room. It was so characteristically him that she was surprised that she hadn't realized that he _would _leave.

Barrett had finally reached their section of the squad room, but she didn't step into it.

Good choice.

"Agent Barrett," Ziva nodded professionally.

"Good morning," the woman replied with a single nod.

Barrett didn't move from her spot and kept a steady gaze on Ziva.

She half-thought that Barrett was trying to size her up, but she wasn't completely sure. She fleetingly wondered if Tony had admitted to Barrett that he theoretically dumped her for Ziva.

She immediately dismissed the thought because that wasn't Tony's style at all.

He preferred short, simple, and as vague as possible.

Though, she figured that Barrett must have some sort of idea. According to McGee, Tony was rattled to the bone when Jonas abducted her, and Barrett _must _have gotten some sort of irking suspicion about the depth of their relationship. Or perhaps, Barrett thought that they were close because they were partners. The assumption sure-did do a good job at keeping the rest of the agency at ease - at least, partially.

Ziva didn't know if there was any prior issues between them that could have caused Tony to call it off - Other than her, of course. There must have been if Barrett didn't pry about Tony's decision.

However, whatever the reason, Barrett didn't question Tony's sudden choice to break whatever the two had off, and Tony had casually reported to her last week that EJ had not tried to contact him since he told her he wasn't interested. Ziva was pleased to hear that. She wasn't _worried _that Tony would go running back to Barrett, exactly. She knew he wouldn't, but she preferred if Barrett kept her distance regardless.

Though, Ziva couldn't help but feel a little smug about the situation. Tony spent weeks flaunting over the girl, but it only took one very vague conversation with Ziva to make Tony drop everything. Something like that most-definitely brought one's self-esteem up.

Ziva had done the same thing to Ray, but it had been coming on for a long time.

"I understand that you are planning to stick around here?" Ziva mentioned casually, going around to the front of her desk and leaning on it.

Barrett nodded, folding her hands in front of her and rocking back and forth on her heels. "I plan to, but I've got my fingers crossed. I have a meeting with Director Vance about it right now, actually. If I can't land a job here, I at least want to stay in the country. I think I'm tired of being abroad."

She nodded. "I cannot blame you - You miss home after awhile, yes?"

"Definitely. Spain was very nice, but there's no place like home," Barrett replied with a slight smile. She quoted the_ Wizard of Oz _- Ziva wondered if it was intentional.

Ziva realized that Barrett wasn't _that _bad, now that she wasn't the object of Tony's attention, anyway.

"Have you seen Tony around?"

Ziva internally winced. She spoke too soon.

She thought quickly for a way to throw Barrett off his trail and decided that the truth was the best way to go. She said slowly, "You know, I think Tony is looking for a little space."

Barrett broke out into a frown and took a step forward. Her voice dropped, "He told you?"

Innocently, Ziva replied, "No, he did not, but I assumed."

"Oh," she said with her eyes still suspicious, but they had eased a fraction.

Ziva had to hand it to herself - She was good. An instant later, Ziva shook her head once - She was starting to sound as arrogant as Tony.

Barrett said with a shrug, "Well, he doesn't need to worry about anything like that. I don't think we - I just wanted to make peace because you know how small this agency is. We're eventually going to end up working together again down the road, and extra baggage is definitely not a good thing."

Ziva was certain that she could have breathed a sigh. Why, she wasn't sure. She didn't _have _to worry about anything. She almost winced when she realized that she was showing signs of possession over him, but she had a right to.

Over the past couple weeks, Tony made it very clear that he was wholly dedicated to _her._

All the same, Ziva was glad that Barrett's reason for going to find Tony was a legitimate one. Barrett didn't seem bitter or out for revenge, and the two of them remaining on good terms would turn out to be easier for him down the road. Tony did plan on sticking around NCIS for as long as he possibly could.

Barrett checked her watch and said quickly, "I've got to get going, but tell him that I'll catch him later, would you, Ziva?"

Ziva faked a friendly smile as Barrett started to walk away. "No problem."

She watched the woman's progression until she disappeared up the stairs and out of her view.

Immediately afterward, Ziva made a beeline for Abby's lab.

...

"Tony, you are a coward," Ziva called out loudly in a sing-song voice as she strolled into the reverberating lab.

The trio standing around Abby's computer turned to face her, but she only had eyes for Tony. She went straight toward him and poked him hard in the center of his chest with a wide, playful grin on her face. His eyebrow raised in surprised, and he looked slightly entertained. He was warm and solid, and Ziva tried to ignore the part of her that brought up the thought.

He grinned back down at her guiltily in response. He leaned in closer instinctively and asked, "No mention of me, right?"

Ziva replied mischievously, enjoying his squeamishness, "She will look for you after her meeting with Vance."

Tony groaned and threw his head back. "Aw hell, Ziva - What're you good for? You didn't cover for me?"

She stepped back and effortlessly popped herself up onto the counter. Only when she moved away from him did she realize how close they were standing to each other. Without realizing it, Ziva had gotten into his personal bubble - It wasn't even a friendly invasion of space.

It teetered on a 'we're-together-and-don't-have-personal-space-whatsoever' invasion.

She shook her head at her mistake but continued, "You are lucky, though."

"Yeah?" he asked. If he realized that she had gotten too close to him, his face didn't show it. He rubbed his stubbly jaw with an amused expression, "And how's that, sweetcheeks?"

Ziva swung her dangling legs and said, "She says she just wants to set the record straight. Um - 'make peace'?" She put quotation marks around the words, and Tony chortled.

"Wonderful. Nothing to worry about, then. Clearing up extra baggage - I'm completely okay with that. Less tension and things to worry about in the future."

She rolled her eyes at their similar choice of words. They were alike - _Too _alike, possibly, and Ziva suddenly understood why Tony had said that the two of them were better off friends. She believed Tony now more than ever - It was a fling, it meant nothing, and it was a bad distraction.

The smug part of Ziva pointed out that Tony had been biding his time for _her_.

It probably wasn't the best way to wait around for her, but she had been doing the same thing with Ray, really. She couldn't be a hypocrite about it. Both of them were waiting for the other by wasting their time with the wrong people.

All they could do now was put it behind them (and practically pretend that their prior love interests never happened).

Tony's grin remained on his face with the corner of his eyes wrinkled in the familiar way. He took a seat on Abby's counter next to Ziva, but he, unlike her, was careful to leave a respectable amount of space between them. Why Tony was able to remember to do so when she forgot, she wasn't sure.

Abby and McGee were in the middle of a silent conversation using their expressions, and after they realized that the only sound in the room was coming from Abby's pounding music, the two turned to look at Tony and Ziva with poorly masked suspicion on their faces.

Ziva wasn't too worried about it - The two would find out eventually, and when they did, it wasn't like they would be angry about her and Tony's relationship.

"Talking about EJ?" McGee asked plainly.

"Yeah," Tony answered while glancing at his fingernails.

"I didn't know that you two broke it off," Abby said, and Tony snorted.

"How many times do I have to say that we weren't a _thing_?"

"Probably a thousand more," Ziva grumbled under her breath despite herself.

Tony shot her a look and nudged her with his elbow.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Abby's eyes following the movement and quickly covered it up by rubbing his jaw again. Tony leaned back onto his palm lazily and studied the ceiling. He asked to no one in particular, "Anyone see our mighty leader?"

"I think he was up in MTAC with Vance," McGee answered without looking away from the computer. He was in the middle of typing a long stream of code that Tony had no intention of asking about.

"Nice," Tony sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and said hopefully, "It looks like we've got an easy day ahead of ourselves, team."

"Spoke too soon, DiNozzo," Gibbs announced while striding into the lab. He went straight for Abby and handed her a Caf-Pow before placing a kiss on her cheek. She smiled widely at him, and he nodded in reply. He turned on his heel and said while exiting the room, "We've got a dead petty officer."

...

"Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs glanced up from his paperwork to look at her and nodded once. He greeted her curtly, "Agent Barrett."

She smiled slightly at the older man. "I just wanted to thank you for everything, Gibbs."

He didn't say anything as he rose to his feet. Gibbs waited for her to continue, and after she realized that, she immediately started talking.

"Looks like I'm getting transferred to another city - Vance is convinced that you four have everything covered," Barrett joked lightly. Her expression sobered and she said, "Thank you, Gibbs. Really."

With that, she extended a hand, and he shook it once.

Gibbs started walking out of the bullpen toward the break room, and Barrett called after him, "See you around, then?"

He said over his shoulder just before he disappeared from her view, "Probably."

Barrett looked amused as she turned to McGee and held her hand out to him as well, "Pleasure working with you, Tim."

McGee stood and gave her a friendly smile. "Of course, EJ. Best of luck."

She moved to Ziva next, and while there had been some tension, she seemed to have put it behind her. Ziva didn't stand, but she extended her hand first. Barrett shook it with a slightly surprised expression on her face while saying sincerely, "Ziva - Thank you."

"No problem. I wish you good luck as well."

"I appreciate it."

With that, she turned to Tony with a nervous smile. She observed him intently without saying anything, and it should have made Tony uncomfortable, but somehow, it didn't.

Instead, Tony sat there, amused and beating his pen on his leg. "EJ?" he said, breaking the silence.

He was aware of Ziva watching his actions very closely.

"Are we good?" EJ asked him quietly. Her fingers were drumming against her opposite hand, and Tony was thinking that it was a nervous fidgeting. She swayed slightly in her spot, and Tony smiled a little.

Tony looked up at her and asked in return, "Are we?" He was kind enough to keep his voice down, though he knew that Ziva could probably hear every word they were saying. "I haven't got any problems, EJ."

"Then we're good," EJ replied with obvious relief. "You know how it is -"

"Small agency," Tony finished. "Believe me, I know. You see a lot of old faces."

"We're better off friends, anyway."

"I've been thinking the exact same thing."

The two of them smiled at each other in understanding. There wouldn't be any tension, and Tony immediately felt comfortable now that he knew that they were in good terms. He let a true grin spread over his face.

"Do you know where you're going to sent?" Tony asked casually. He placed his pen down on his desk and straightened up in his chair.

EJ shook her head, "Not yet. Vance is still working out the details, but I know that I'm going to be transferred somewhere."

"Well, better hope it's not in the middle of nowhere."

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed," EJ admitted with a laugh. She gave him a long look while she said with a tone of closure, "It's been a pleasure, then."

Tony finally stood from his chair and shook her hand.

He gave her a meaningful smile while he said genuinely, "You take care of yourself, EJ. If you ever need anything or if you're ever in town, don't hesitate to call. I think I still owe you lunch, don't I?"

EJ laughed lightly after remembering that she called him up to grab lunch a couple weeks earlier. "Maybe I'll hold you up to that offer one day."

"I'm sure you will," Tony chuckled in return. "Take it easy out there."

"Bye, Tony."

EJ gave a short wave to Ziva and McGee on her way to the elevators.

Tony sank back into his chair and laughed softly at the expression on Ziva's face.

She had an eyebrow raised at him in amusement, and he merely shrugged in response.

When she opened her mouth to speak to him, Gibbs returned to the bullpen and barked at them to get back to work - the case wasn't going to solve itself.

...

"So tell me, Tony," Ziva said as the two of them strolled very slowly toward their cars. Most of the lot was empty, and their voices carried. "Why do you feel the need to be kind to a girl that you were seeing at one point?"

"Oh, here we go," Tony groaned playfully. He was walking with a slow march, not bending his knees, but Ziva took it as an old habit from when he was young. He straightened his expression and repeated a common saying to her, "We were never together, though."

"Really, now?" Ziva asked him skeptically.

He chuckled at her expression but shrugged guiltily, "Friends with benefits?"

"That actually exists in real life?"

Tony pointed out, "We see it all the time, Ziva."

"And most of them do tend to be murder cases, Tony," she pointed out.

"Okay," he sighed, raising his palms up in surrender, "You got me. But it was like that, yeah. It never ends well. You're right - But that's how it was."

"It seems as if it will end well now."

"What? Jealous, Ziva?" he teased good-naturedly while nudging her with his hip.

"I am not jealous," she huffed. She added with a smirk, "I have you all to myself."

Tony laughed heartily and swiftly stepped in front of her, stopping her progression to her car. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, but their bodies were in a close proximity to each other, just as close as they were in Abby's lab. He leaned down to her face and asked playfully, "Are you sure about that, love?"

Ziva grinned up at him and shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Am I?"

"I think you're very sure," Tony said seriously. His demeanor changed almost instantly, and he smiled in adoration this time. He brought a hand up to caress her face. He let his forehead fell on hers. "Very, very sure."

"It is good to know that I have got a leash on you," Ziva joked before her expression sobered as well. She rose on her toes to kiss him quickly before murmuring, "It is a strange thing, is it not?"

"The both of us in a committed relationship with each other?" Tony laughed at the thought and rubbed her face idly. She could see that his eyes were glittering, even under the dingy parking lot lights. He continued with an awe-struck voice, "Yeah - I haven't heard of anything stranger in my life."

He brought his hand down to take hers and started walking again.

Ziva wearily remembered that they haven't left work, but she let Tony have his way, just this once.

"But really, Ziva," Tony said sincerely, "We're on the same page right now. We're just friends."

"I know."

"It's nothing," he added.

"I know."

Tony gave her sideways glance and smiled to himself.

They reached Ziva's car at the far side of the lot, and Tony leaned on her door casually. He didn't release her hand, so she was standing close to him.

"Want to come over tonight?" he asked her softly. His head was tilted down to look at her, and it threw a shadow over his face. His eyes were dark but full of fondness under the dim light. He was brushing her hand with both of his.

"I think that I am going to go to the gym. I have not been going as much lately, thanks to someone." Ziva tickled below his chin, and he swatted her hand away with a smirk.

He chuckled, "All right then, health nut. Turning down an evening with me - I didn't even know it was possible. I would have cooked you dinner and everything."

"Ha," Ziva snorted. She wriggled her hand from his and placed it on his chest. Leaning up to brush her lips on his, she breathed, "Do not get ahead of yourself."

Tony kissed her harder and continued, "All ready have."

He brought a hand up to touch her face.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he answered with a grin. He didn't stop brushing his thumb across her skin.

"Do you mind stepping out of my way, then? I'd like to actually get home before ten," Ziva told him. She tapped her fingers on his chest impatiently.

Tony winked and kissed her again. He lingered there longer this time before he stepped aside with an open expression on his face. Softly, he told her, "Good night, Ziva."

"Good night, Tony," she answered while getting into her car.

As she drove away, Tony stood in her parking spot, watching her leave with a slight smile on his face and an expression that she couldn't read. After pulling out, she glanced at her rear view mirror and saw him walking back toward his car that they had passed on the way to hers.

Ziva shook her head and couldn't help but smile at him.


	8. Eight

Longest one so far, and I'm loving this chapter.

I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for the reviews. Do know that I read each and every one of them and I appreciate it, I really do. If you ever want to talk or answer a question or whatever, don't hesitate to drop on my blog or leave me one on here. I love the reviews and comment. They're my drugs and make me spaz like a fangirl.

All right, enough talk, happy reading, everyone!

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><p>"That's illegal in most countries, you know."<p>

Ziva spun around with her heart pounding in alarm. She recognized the voice a beat later and sighed at him, "Sneaking up on me could get you killed."

A sweatpants-clad Tony leaned on the doorframe with a grin and steaming mug in his hand, and it seemed like he had been standing there for a long time. The light from the hall framed his shirtless figure and made his sharp features soften with his shadow falling into the room. He looked very awake, which was rather odd considering that it was the middle of the night.

"I'm not too concerned about it," he told her with a smile. He passed her the mug and leaned against his underused desk with a bright expression. Tony was awake, strangely awake. "If you wanted to look through my things, you could have just asked. What're you looking for? Money? Passport? Ex-wives?"

Ziva ignored him and took the mug from his hand as he requested. She sniffed its contents carefully and was pleasantly surprised when she was greeted with the familiar aroma of her favorite tea. She cradled it in her palms and took in Tony's triumphant smile as she sipped it.

Eventually, she answered him, "Nothing. I am tired of watching television, and there's nothing here for me to read, so I thought I would do some detective work."

"You're not going to find me with some affair with an uglier woman, Ziva," Tony joked with a laugh, crossing his arms. The muscles in his arms rippled under his skin with the movement - _Had they been there all this time?_ Ziva must have been blind to not notice before this. Regardless, she suddenly appreciated his choice in walking around shirtless half the time they were together.

She pried her eyes away from his chest and gestured to the mug in her hands by lifting it up. "Is this for me?"

"Yeah," he answered simply. "Thought you might like it. Helps you relax."

"Thank you. You know how to treat a girl," Ziva winked at him, and the smile on his face grew until it threatened to split it in half.

While he looked at her, his expression transformed into something softer, more concerned and serious. He asked lightly, "Bad dream?"

She shook her head and murmured with her lips against the edge of the mug, "It is just one of those nights. I have been lying awake since you fell asleep. I could not take it anymore, so I got up."

"You could have woken me up," Tony said. "I wouldn't mind. You know I wouldn't."

"How did you know that I was up, anyway?"

"I had to pee," Tony deadpanned with a shrug.

Ziva laughed softly because his response was extremely true to his character.

He didn't say anything more. Tony moved from his perch on the desk and approached the filing cabinet that Ziva had been attempting to open when he interrupted her. He reached around it with a grimace on his face when his shoulder popped in protest. Groping the length of the metal for a moment, his fingers latched onto something, and there was suddenly a snapping sound. Tony let out a low noise of success. Withdrawing his hand, she saw that he held a taped silver key between his fingers, and he immediately went to work on trying to open the cabinet.

Changing the subject, she asked him curiously, "Since when did you drink tea?"

He snorted. "You're funny. I don't drink tea. You know I hate it."

"Then why do you have tea?"

"Ziva," Tony said, diverting his attention from the uncooperative cabinet for the smallest of moments. He still looked amused, but there was an ounce of exasperation in his expression and voice. There was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that threatened to break free. "There's tea here because you're here. You like tea, so I bought tea for you. End of story."

"Oh," she breathed, feeling incredibly stupid.

Tony smiled at her because she looked so damn adorable with her mouth slightly ajar and head cocked, and he was aware of a faint stirring just below his navel. He ignored it, but there was a masculine, reflexive part of him that wanted to pin her to his desk and ravish her because god, she couldn't possibly getting away with looking that attractive. Tony blinked hard and dismissed the thought, forcing himself to turn away.

Really, he deserved a reward for how behaved he's been.

"If I didn't know any better," Ziva said with an air of mock-accusation, moving into his view and leaning her back on the wall, "I'd say that you've been spoiling me." She pointedly took another gulp from the mug in her hands, but there was a smile playing on her lips, so Tony doubted that she disliked the idea of being spoiled.

Hell, a part of her was probably basking in it, even if she wouldn't admit it.

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked incredulously. He finally managed to work the lock, and he gently placed the key on top of the cabinet while saying, "I've still got money in my pocket - I haven't spoiled you yet, sweetcheeks. Trust me on that one."

"You do not need to spend money to spoil someone, Tony," she told him in that chiding, matter-of-fact voice that made him tilt his head in confusion.

He frowned with his eyebrows pulling together. "I think that we have two totally different ideas of spoiling, Ziva."

She brought a hand up to pat his cheek. She searched for words, "You have been treating me very much like..."

"Royalty?" Tony suggested with a impish waggle of his eyebrows.

Ziva brushed off his joke and shrugged, "If you prefer to say it that way."

"But Ziva," Tony sighed, carefully taking the mug from her hands and placing it on the desk behind him. He stepped close to her, pinning her between the wall and his body. He caressed her warmer-than-normal palm just because he could - He did a lot of things nowadays just because he could, and to have that freedom was still unfathomable to him. "We're _together - _in a relationship, mind you. It's strange, even a month later, I know, but we are. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary. It's like you cooking me food. It's stuff that we just do because we want to."

A smile spread over her face, and it was infectious. Tony grinned down at her crookedly.

"You haven't seen spoiling yet, love," he told her with a glint in his eye that always meant trouble. Tony braced a palm on the wall next to her head and leaned in close enough to her face that he could feel her tea-scented breath on his skin. He hated tea, definitely, but the smell of it mixed deliciously with her skin and made him want to shudder from the sweetness of it.

He vaguely had the idea of running his tongue down her exposed neck - But he decided against it.

Tony was wholly determined to make sure that their relationship was more than _just _their amazing, passionate, mouth-watering sex.

Even though it was fucking_ amazing_.

"I do not need to," Ziva said firmly. She drew Tony from his naughty thoughts and gave him _that _look - The one that meant he better behave himself or else. The look had more of an effect on him nowadays - After all, her devious self could very easily hold out on physical intimacy, and Tony couldn't have any of that. He'd gladly be a dancing puppet to keep her happy. "This -" she squeezed his hand, "and everything you are doing is enough. It is more than enough."

"It's never enough," Tony challenged while he stepped away. He didn't want to expand on it because Ziva would complain and give him an argument that he couldn't fight, and he would lose just like he always did. So, he changed the subject before she could start talking, "About this cabinet - There really isn't anything of interest in it. It's just old medical records and certificates and warranties and old crap like that."

"Though," he said, pulling open the uppermost drawer without looking at her, "You might find this stuff interesting."

He stepped out of the way so she could peer inside, and upon realizing what was within, Ziva immediately pulled out the contents of the drawer in one, lopsided stack. She set it on his desk and pushed the drawer closed distractedly with her attention focused on the papers in front of her. She sat in his chair, and Tony took a seat on the desk with his feet planted firmly on the ground. His thigh was close enough that even the slightest movement would result in her brushing against him.

Ziva examined the tilting tower with a frown. Decisively, she plugged her nose and blew the dust away.

Tony immediately sneezed in response and rubbed his nose. He sniffed, "God, I haven't opened that drawer in years, as you can tell."

Upon looking back up at his face, she realized that there was something strange in his expression. There was a nervous uncertainty on his face that made him look as if he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wasn't looking at her - Rather, he eyed the stack of memories wearily, like there was something within that he didn't want to see at all. He realized that she was studying him, and he gave her a quick smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and a nod that meant she should continue.

With the utmost care, Ziva picked up the piece of paper at the top of the stack. It was flimsy and thin compared to the others, and hell, it would be a good place to start. Its texture was more like copy paper but just the slightest bit thicker, but it stuck out like a sore thumb in the stack of photos. She flipped it over and realized that she held a drawing in her hands. The picture was a very rough sketch of the man sitting next to her done in pencil.

"Kate," Tony explained with his throat tight. He wasn't looking at her, and he was leaning forward with his hands folded together and his elbows digging into his knees. There was an unknown point on the wall that he didn't avert his gaze from. "She was a talented sketch artist. I found that in her desk after she passed away, and I didn't think that she would mind if I kept it."

"I do not think so either," Ziva murmured softly, and really, she felt the tiniest bit responsible for Kate's death, even after all these years. Tony should know that _she _shot Ari. He should know, but Ziva decided that there wasn't a need to bring it up right know. Carefully, she placed the drawing down and away from the rest of the stack. She squeezed his thigh, and he untangled his hands just long enough to touch her hand in return.

"I'm okay, really - I just - Well, you'll see." The was a strain in his voice and expression that made the hairs on her arm stand up. Tony gave her a sad little smile that made her chest constrict as well.

Ziva knew that the only was she would find out what he meant was to keep looking through the pictures, so she immediately started examining the pictures in curiosity.

"You're younger in these pictures. Much younger," Ziva commented almost right away. "These are before you were at Baltimore - and no, wait. There are college pictures - Wow, that is _obviously_ from college -" She shook her head at a picture of Tony licking salt off of a busty blond. "Really, Tony?"

Tony chortled at the memory and nudged her with a slightly sheepish expression. "It's in the past, love."

Ziva snorted in reply and tossed the picture in the pile that she had already seen.

He pointed to an image of him playing basketball and mumbled, "Oh, my golden years."

Tony explained the particular game to her quickly - He was on fire that night, and it had been the single best game he had played in college. He had landed the winning shot just seconds before the buzzer went off, and while she was clinging to his every word, Ziva was aware of the look on his face. It was reminiscent but not the least bit sad, and there was a sparkle in his eyes that meant he was talking about something he truly loved.

He fell silent, and Ziva continued to look through his past. It became obvious that she had shifted into Tony's police era, and she was thinking out loud when she said, "Still young but just as handsome."

Tony chuckled quietly. "But with less of a gut."

"I recognize some of these people," she murmured to him softly while she shifted through pictures of Tony and his friends. Usually at bars, but she decided not to be too irked by the thought. It was Tony's personality to spend his free time at bars. Apparently, it has been for years.

"You've met a couple of them," Tony replied lightly, sounding more like himself. "They're mostly buddies from college and my other police forces - A few odd ones here and there, but you _have _met a good chunk of them."

She pushed past the younger Tony and slowed down when more familiar faces started showing up. The pictures started morphing into more present time, and there were more faces that she could recall than the older ones. "Are these from when you worked for Baltimore?"

Tony was examining her face, and he blinked once before he registered her question. He tilted his body in a way that probably wasn't too great for his back to look at the pictures in her hands. "Yeah," Tony explained, leaning over and pointing to a couple of faces. "Recognize these two?" His finger lingered over his old partner's face, and he tapped once before withdrawing his hands. "Danny and I were a thick as thieves, back in the day."

"It is best if you remember him like that."

His voice was soft, "I always do."

Tony changed the subject and straightened his back. He grinned a little and picked up a picture from the stack. Handing it to her, he said, "There you go. My first day on the job. They gave me a copy of my identification picture - Only the lord knows why. I think the lady had a crush on me."

Ziva studied the picture and compared it to the man staring down at her. He still looked strikingly the same despite working at NCIS for the better side of nine years. The only difference was the he looked a little older, but it was nothing drastic. The only difference seemed to be his hair style, and Ziva had to admit, he looked better with the cut he had now.

Tony grinned at her with a tightness in his eyes that she tried to ignore.

She moved on to the next photo and found that it was one of him and Kate - At a bar, of course.

He had his arm around her with a huge, cheesy grin on his face. Kate was pushing him away but looked faintly amused at his childishness.

"She was very pretty," Ziva murmured softly, passing Tony the picture.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of it, and he agreed, "She was. She was a great gal, Ziva. I think you really would have gotten along with her - Or you know what? Maybe not." Tony chortled and placed the memory down in the stack that Ziva had already looked at.

The next dozen were from the same time period, and Tony very softly told the stories behind the pictures in her ear, and Ziva was engrossed by all the experiences he had with the team before she came along. She could imagine Tony, Kate, McGee, and Abby sitting at bars on Friday nights, bullshitting and discussing cases and becoming close. There was even a single snapshot of Paula and Tony, and Ziva wasn't even aware that the two of them were friends outside of NCIS. There was a sad, distant expression in his eyes as he told her stories from before she knew him, like he hadn't allowed himself to relive them because they hurt too much.

Ziva couldn't help but yearn to ease his pain, but she also knew that she couldn't.

She placed the last picture in the stack and was now confronted with a high school yearbook. Tony flipped open to his school picture, and she wasn't surprised to find a strikingly handsome, younger version of him grinning arrogantly up at her. He pointed out his basketball team and explained how lucky he was to be on a team of such talented players.

"That's it?" Ziva asked him, shutting the book with faint disappointment leaking into her voice.

Tony shook his head, and suddenly, his eyes were very unreadable. The light nostalgia on his face was wiped clean, and his face wore an emotionless mask that Ziva desperately wanted to peel away. He lifted the yearbook up, and there were at least thirty more pictures sandwiched between it and the photo album below it. He resumed his position of staring at the wall with his hands folded in front of him, and dread filled her like a sinking ship.

A few of the photos were smashed with creases and a few with tears on them. Ziva racked her brain for some sort of explanation, and she realized with a jolt that the last time they were looked at, the high school yearbook had been thrown on top of them. The assumption made sense - The rips and lines lined up with the way the yearbook had been lying.

She brought the least-damaged photo up to her face and found that there was a shift in time in these pictures. These were memories that _she _could recall.

She was in each and everyone of these pictures. Occasionally, Tony wouldn't even be in the picture, and it would be her and Abby or her and McGee. There were even a couple snapshots of Gibbs with the team, which was nonexistent up until now. She could immediately pinpoint the most recent out of all the pictures - It was months after the team was reunited after Jenny's death.

"I do not understand," Ziva murmured quietly. "What has you so shaken up?"

Tony reached over and grabbed a picture that was crumpled into a ball. He smoothed it out, and Ziva realized that it was not trash like she had previously thought - It was another picture. Tony straightened it the best he could and handed it to her with sad eyes.

She stared down at it and her heart leapt into her throat. Ziva remembered this night and had forgotten about it until now - Tony had gotten pissed drunk, and he had flirted relentlessly with her. She knew that a picture had been snapped of them, but Ziva didn't realize that he had a copy until now. His lips were pressed into her cheek, and his arm was slung around her casually like it belonged there. He was red-faced and obviously intoxicated, but she, on the other hand, was pink-cheeked for an entirely different reason.

Tony's voice pierced painfully through the silence, eerily calm, "The last time I opened the drawer was when I thought you were dead."

Ziva couldn't think of anything she could possibly respond with, and luckily for her, Tony continued roughly.

"I haven't been able to get myself to look through it since. Hurts too much. I've been keeping my new pictures in this drawer." He kicked back on his desk with his heel.

"You were angry," Ziva said without an ounce of accusation.

It explained the crumpled and damaged pictures.

"I was infuriated. With you, yeah, but most of all with myself. I let you go, after all. I caused the problem. If I hadn't - You would have been with us, alive... and it wasn't until I slammed everything back in the drawer and snapped it shut that I broke down," Tony admitted in a hurting voice. She looked up to find him digging his elbowing into his knees with a wounded expression on his face. "Ziva, I have _never _felt anything as bad as that."

He exhaled shakily. "It... It was a long night."

There was a certain edge to his voice. The way it seemed to hang in the air had Ziva's senses going off, and there was something more. He had reeled - There was something that he was going to admit but decided not to at the last second. There was something more to his story, something that he didn't want to talk about but something that Ziva had to know.

"Tony?" she asked, rising from her chair.

Ziva nudged his knees apart and stood between them. She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. He tried to look everywhere but into her eyes, but eventually, he breathed a sigh and complied with her insistence.

She was startled by the amount of emotions in his gaze. It was a swirling pool of pain and memories of long-ago. There were parts of his buried past that haunted him, and it was evident in the achingly wretched expression on his face. He gave her a broken, slight smile that made her heart plummet to the floor because there _had _to be something she could do to fix this. He didn't deserve to hurt like this.

"Tony?" she repeated his name through prickling nerves.

"Ah, Ziva," Tony sighed quietly, bringing his hand up to touch one of hers. "Let's just say it was rough. Really rough."

"How rough?" Ziva pushed because she had to know. She couldn't just let this one go. Not this time.

But somehow, she already knew.

Tony pulled her close enough to him that he could lay his forehead against hers. His eyes shut tightly in an attempt to block out whatever he was feeling. Hoarse, he murmured, "Rough enough that I almost lost it."

She couldn't look away from his face. "Lost it how?"

"Ziva - You _know _how, okay? I was in disbelief - I couldn't... I refused to accept that you were gone. I couldn't deal with it. I tried. I went through one day in denial - The day was hell. Everything reminded me of you. The entire summer I was okay with turning a blind eye to everything that even had the faintest wiff of you, and I managed. It was tough, but I managed - But after I thought that you were dead, I couldn't anymore. It was like everything got magnified with a fucking megaphone. It screamed in my face - mocked me. I just - I _almost _ended it."

Without realizing it, tears had formed at the corner of her eyes, and Ziva hated how he could do this to her so easily. It wasn't fair - Despite all her training, he could unravel everything instantly, without fail. Her training didn't help at all against the crippling emotions flowing through her veins. Choked from tears, she said while rubbing his face with her thumbs, "But you didn't. You're here."

Tony's eyes were still squeezed shut. His hands took a hold of her forearms loosely. His voice was broken and tight and made daggers poke through her skin, "You're right. I didn't. I decided that I couldn't give up like that, so I threw myself into trying to avenge you... I planned on waiting until afterward. A part of me sort of hoped that getting revenge would give me peace, but another part of me knew that it never would. But, you know, I never allowed myself to hope that you were alive and okay. I couldn't let myself do that. I wouldn't be able to live with it if I got my hopes up but came home empty-handed."

Ziva couldn't say anything. She couldn't think she could without breaking her thin composure.

Like a fucking tidal wave, emotions hit her because _finally _she understood how Tony felt when he went to Somalia to get her. The thought of him being gone and gone for good felt like hell -and hell, he was right in front of her in the flesh. The idea of losinghim was overwhelming, and god forbid, if that ever happened, Ziva would pull the trigger on herself without hesitation.

After all these years, after everything they've been through, she wouldn't be able to live without him. She couldn't. Wouldn't.

Tony's eyes flickered open and bore into hers, and there was a level of sincerity that passed between them that was inexplicable. His hand brushed a tear away, and he mumbled, a thin-lipped, humorless smile playing on his face, "Anthony DiNozzo, professional heartbreaker."

Ziva shook her head. "No. Never. Not to me."

"Glad you have faith in me."

"You weren't lying in Somalia," Ziva blurted before she could stop the words from leaving her lips.

"Lying about what?"

"You can't live without me."

Her words hung in the air like a two-day old balloon, hovering but not floating or sinking to the ground, and eventually, Tony shrugged and pressed his lips together nervously. He said through closed lips, "Really, Ziva. I had truth serum in me. I couldn't lie if I tried. But yes, I wasn't lying. It's true."

And that was the closest thing he had said thus far that indicated that he wanted to spend more than just a couple months or years with her, and it made Ziva feel fluttery and school-girly and hopeful. Really, she shouldn't have those type of feelings - She hadn't been a school girl in over a decade, damn it, but it bubbled up inside of her like carbonated soda and all she could do was go with it.

Pressing her body against his, she kissed him with all she had because he deserved that and nothing less. His lips were like fire on hers, and there was an amount of desperate passion that had stemmed from their intimate moment tonight. His movements were precise and breathtaking and made Ziva's nerves tingle like they were fried.

He rose to his feet and tugged her out of the room with his hands all over her, frenzied and uncontrolled. Ziva was shocked because he hardly ever came at her with this type of lust, and while she wasn't opposed to it, this wasn't Tony's style. He was normally very limited and adamant about making sure everything was meaningful and about her.

She half-considered slowing things down as her back hit his bedroom door, but then his tongue dragged against the length of her neck and she couldn't form another coherent thought, and fuck it, Tony could do whatever he wanted to her.


	9. Nine

Okay, this one is extra long. It verges on ridiculous. I apologize if it's boring. But I wanted to one that involved the two of them working (sort of), so here goes.

Thanks for reading, all the same.

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><p>Ziva jumped out of her skin and right back into it when Gibbs' voice boomed from right behind her, "We're heading out. Grab your gear."<p>

She had not noticed him move behind her while she sat perched on the corner of Tony's desk. Though, she couldn't exactly call it a goof-up because she had been talking casually to McGee at the time. Gibbs had cut her off mid-sentence and made no sounds of entering the bullpen at all, and she _supposed _that it was an honest case of behind caught off guard. She had missed McGee's expression tightening into a hard, determined but curious stare at the sight of their boss standing behind her - Though, she had been flipping through her text messages as she spoke to him.

After her heart stopped pounding in her chest, she noted with faint irritation that she had lost her Mossad touch.

But then again, Gibbs was just as trained as she was and was the _only_ one who could sneak up on her with no effort at all.

She drew in a deep breath before hopping off of Tony's desk with his faint chuckle lingering in her ears.

Ziva moved to grab her things and saw out of the corner of her eye that Tony was having issues with the jacket of his suit. She rolled her eyes a moment later upon realizing that he had locked the sleeve in a drawer. It wasn't particularly surprising since Tony was notorious for strange, childish maneuvers, but it was ridiculous all the same. He very loudly tugged on the jacket in hopes of drawing it out with no avail, and he begun fervently searching his pockets for the key to the metal drawer. All the while, he grumbled under his breath about Tuesday mornings and too early.

Gibbs and McGee paid him no mind - this was normal behavior, after all - and left the bullpen.

Ziva was quick on their heels, and as she passed him, Tony glanced up at her just long enough to flash her a sheepish grin through his annoyance and call out, "I'll catch up. Don't you dare leave without me."

"Better hurry," she taunted before realizing that the elevator was starting to close.

She barely wedged her body through the crack between the closing doors. The forward motion propelled her body into her boss' shoulder, and after she had her footing again, she gave him a shifty smile in apology. The grey-haired man gave her a vaguely irked expression but shrugged it off like one hundred-twenty pounds didn't just hurtle at him and took another gulp of his coffee with natural casualness.

Her shoulder was still against his, and she was about to step away when Gibbs suddenly frowned and lowered the cup from his mouth with overdramatic slowness. She paused mid-movement and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. His face mirrored hers almost identically, and there was an ounce of suspicion in his gaze that made her feel queasy because these days, the thing she had to hide was directly connected to the both of them. Ziva was aware of McGee's eyes on her as well, and he wore his signature lost puppy face.

Gibbs leaned down to her shoulder with his eyes still trained on hers and his forehead inches away, and she stiffened involuntarily. Ziva wasn't sure what he was doing and was genuinely taken back when the marine took a good whiff of her blouse. He straightened a beat later and gave her a hard stare that almost threatened to make her cringe.

Almost.

Ziva held her ground like the hardheaded trooper she was and gritted her teeth while waiting for him to speak.

"You smell like DiNozzo," he said slowly to her.

It was a statement, not a question. No answer was expected.

His words sent a wave of fear through her that disappeared after she dragged air into her lungs.

She tried to keep her face even, and much to her surprise, it was easier than she remembered. Tony could read her like a book, but Gibbs was a few steps behind him in that respect and that was the difference between the two men. Tony knew her emotions while Gibbs knew her thoughts. In the back of her head, she realized that she gotten so used to displaying her feelings over the past few weeks that she had forgotten what it was like to hide them.

But the ability was seared deep into her being, and she fell back into it with ease.

The baby blue eyes were steely but otherwise emotionless, and he was trying to read her like she was trying to read him. Neither were getting anywhere, and Ziva wasn't sure what point there was in trying to read Gibbs when he only ever showed what he wanted to. She figured that she should reply to his accusation, but she couldn't think of anything that she could possibly respond with, so she merely shrugged and looked towards the doors with a strange feeling stirring in her chest.

McGee didn't dare try and change the subject, and Ziva felt him shifting uncomfortably next to her.

She could also hear the gears turning in both their heads, and it echoed and bounced off the metal elevator walls and made the sound so much louder. It was taunting her, testing her nerves. Ziva was half-convinced that the both of them knew.

Hell, she was _convinced _that the both of them knew.

The thought made a mixture of exhilaration and fear and carelessness flow through her.

It was a strange combination indeed.

...

"All set, boss," Tony murmured into a cup of coffee as he glanced around the park around him. It was still early in the morning, but the sun was a vibrant variant of its afternoon self, bright and blazing and relentless. He felt just the slightest bit uneasy because the park was much too open and crowded for his liking, and upon catching Ziva's eye from a few yards away, he knew that she was thinking the same thing. He hoped the day would go smoothly. It was only Tuesday, damn it. They still had the rest of the week to deal with.

Gibbs barked in their ears, "Keep an eye out."

Tony pulled himself from his thoughts and strolled casually over to a bench. He spread out an arm and brought his coffee up to his lips. The caffeine was definitely needed - Between Ziva, work, and the ridiculous undercover op that was leading him to nothing but dead ends, Tony was starting to run on no fuel. In actuality, he had been running without fuel for weeks now. He vaguely wondered if Ziva started to notice yet.

Raising his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, Tony spotted something peculiar in the distance. Instantly, his body stiffened, and he held back a groan. It couldn't be - He squinted, knowing that it could easily be mistaken for the sun getting in his eyes, and his suspicions were confirmed. Tony shook his head with queasiness starting to overtake him and gazed at his surroundings again, this time paying closer attention than before and picking out the ones who were watching his every move.

He stared to think on his feet because this wasn't part of the plan. There were too many of them for the team to take down - that was a given. Besides, he wouldn't be surprised if they each were armed with better weapons than their measly sidearms. There was only one choice but to bail out, and he didn't _think _these buffoons were on to them yet - and _shit._

A bald man hidden behind a pair of reflective sunglasses took a seat on the bench next to him. Tony slowly curled his extended arm back to his body while the man gave him a toothy, sinister grin. Tony returned it with his heart pounding against his chest.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" the man asked.

Tony knew straightaway. He was one of them.

His eyes darted to the man's coat for a quarter of a second, and he could see the faint outline of a gun within, one with a lot more firepower than the two tucked in his shoulder holster combined. He started wishing that he called in sick for the day at the sight of it. Regardless, he grinned in return, "Nope. No problem at all. I'm just waiting for my girlfriend."

He pointedly looked around and was relieved when he spotted Ziva giving him a curious look. He could play off of that easily. Tony turned to the man and gave him the cockiest grin he could muster up given the sticky situation, "There she is. Have a good day."

It took everything Tony had not to run away like a straggly teenager. He forced himself to walk over to Ziva casually with Gibbs demanding an explanation in his ear. Tony ignored the ear that was starting to ring and dropped his coffee in a trashcan as he passed it. Gibbs immediately stopped barking because that was the distress signal.

Tony half-noticed that Ziva masked her confusion very well - so well that he almost couldn't tell that she was confused at all. When he reached her, he brushed his lips against her smooth cheek and wrapped his arms around her slender frame like he did on a nearly daily basis. Her arms snaked around his chest naturally, and he silently thanked her for that.

Dropping his lips to her ear, he brought a hand up to stroke the lobe with two fingers. He murmured into the microphone at his wrist, "We're surrounded. My two, four, six, nine o'clock. One on the bench at seven. Possibly more. They're on to us. We have to regroup."

Ziva stiffened in his arms and her fingers clenched around his forearm for a brief moment before she composed herself again. Pulled away, she brought a hand up to cup his face. Her thumb skated back and forth against his cheekbone in a loving manner, but her eyes were hard while she searched his face. "Snipers?" she asked with a slight smile that would look natural to an onlooker.

Tony had not realized how good she was at this. Or perhaps he had forgotten.

He played with her hand thoughtlessly while nodding, "Possibly. They may have scopes. I couldn't tell. We have to get out of here."

With this, he took her hand and tugged her toward a more crowded area of the park. She didn't say anything about the situation, but the way she clutched his hand told him a different story. He let their hands swing between them casually, like they were another couple seeking solace in the morning rays.

He sent her a strained but exhilarated grin. Ziva gave him a half-smile and shrugged with one shoulder.

He understood what she was trying to say.

Ridiculous for a Tuesday morning.

He was starting to think the same thing.

Tony swallowed hard and tried to reevaluate the circumstances. He didn't see any of the men following them, but things never were what they appeared to be. Out of the corner of his eye, he used a metal trashcan to catch sight of McGee following them with a large distance of separation. McGee's face was the perfect painting of a man on a mission, and Tony snorted in amusement at his probie.

It was a full fifteen minutes of walking under the hammering sun before the quartet regrouped in the parking lot of the park.

"Looks like you're right, DiNozzo," Gibbs grumbled as he approached the waiting trio. He pulled his microphone from his wrist just as he came to a stop in front of them. The trio yelped at the sound of thumping in their ears and simultaneously yanked out their earwigs. Gibbs paid them no mind and continued, "They're not following us."

Gibbs had decided to be a daredevil and walk in the direction of the markmen to get a headcount.

"I figured that, boss," Tony quipped while shedding the jacket of his suit, "since none of us got shot."

The older man gave him an impatient look, and Tony shrugged innocently.

"How did they know that we would be here?" McGee wondered aloud, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

"That's what we're going to find out, McGee," Gibbs snapped, now irritated with his team and the entire situation. He moved to the other side of the car, to the driver's seat, and the air of closure in his voice made the team breath a sigh because they were finally going to get out of the summer heat.

McGee was already at the passenger's side, and Tony decided not to argue for it. It wasn't worth it today.

Despite his desire to jump inside the vehicle and plant his head against an air vent, he patiently opened the car door for Ziva, motioning for her to get in with a lazy sweep of his arm. She gave him an amused and skeptical expression with a glittering in her dark eyes that made Tony tilt his head to one side tiredly as if to say, "It's the least I can do."

The moment he shut the door behind her, he let his facade fall away and breathed a heavy sigh. Things were really starting to wear him down, and while he went over to the other side of the car, he ran a hand through his hair and fleetingly daydreamed of a nice shower and cool sheets.

He was tired_,_ sweaty, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a day or two.

A week, if he could.

But it was a luxury that he wouldn't be able to indulge in, so before he took his spot in the back of the Charger, Tony put his game face back on with more difficulty than he would prefer.

Of course, it got worse.

He was buckling himself in while Gibbs sped out of the parking lot. McGee's voice tactlessly rung out in the whistling of the air conditioning with intentional smugness seeping into his words, "Nice stunt you pulled with Ziva, Tony. I wouldn't have thought of doing something like that to throw them off your trail."

There was something in his voice that hinted that he was trying to say more with his words than what was really there, and it made Tony want to bang his forehead into the headrest in front of him.

He fucking hated Tuesdays.

He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them roughly before giving Ziva a doubtful look with her mouthing "later" at him. Tony let his composure fall to pieces and shot the back of McGee's head a dirty look whilst vowing to make the probie suffer at a later date. Tony was too tired and too hot to think of an explanation of McGee's sudden bluntness, but he knew that he wasn't liking it one bit. He would normally be plotting of a way to avenge himself, but even that seemed a little too strenuous at the moment.

Even trying to think of a retort that wouldn't raise alarms was proving to be difficult.

He went to his go-to strategy consisting of arrogance and smugness because it was all he could come up with in his dog-tired state, but his voice didn't cooperate with him, and it was like he completely admitted their entire relationship.

Dully, he said, "It's a talent, McGiggles. I'm talented at wooing innocent women. My face is mesmerizing and irresistible, you see."

He leaned the side of his head on the window and shut his eyes because damn it, he was too exhausted for this bullshit. He didn't particularly care about keeping their relationship quiet because they were actually making it work, and since Ziva wasn't covering for him, he didn't think she cared very much either.

But even with his eyes closed, he could feel a characteristically spine-chilling and steely gaze on him through the rearview mirror.

...

"All right. Let's get this over with so we can go home and cuddle on the couch," Tony grumbled while stepping out of the car and rubbing the sleep from his baggy eyes. The entire day had proved to be just as dragging as he had initially thought, and their last stop of the day was right smack in the middle of metropolitan D.C.

The city normally had a way of breathing life into him, but not today.

His entire body slumped, at odds with the bustling, and the poorly-concealed irritation that had been present since the mishap in the morning was threatening to burst from his every pore.

Ziva had feared this back at the Navy Yard and insisted that he let her drive.

He must have been ready to drop dead because he was crazy enough to agree.

What was even crazier was that he was actually able to take a twenty (supposed to be forty in the rush hour traffic, but she was driving, after all) minute power nap that didn't help in the least.

Ziva teased him in an attempt to lighten his spirits while coming up next to him on the sidewalk, allowing herself to get closer than she would allow herself to when in the company of their coworkers, "Is there no room for sex in that plan?"

In spite of everything, Tony's gaze floated down to meet hers and the tension in his muscles eased a fraction. But only a fraction. He gave her a strained grin and appreciated her attempt to calm him. He leaned close to her face while murmuring in a tired voice that betrayed him, "There's always room for sex, sweetcheeks."

And in that moment, almost like he planned to burst their bubble of intimacy, a man burst from the door of an apartment building and took off down the street at a breakneck speed that even Ziva would have trouble keeping up with. Tony dumbly blinked in confusion before recognizing the man. Fury filled him, and he couldn't help but groan out loud, "_Are you kidding me right now_?"

The sprinting man was the suspect they were going to bring into custody.

Ziva was quicker in her realization and had not paused to marvel in the ludicrousness of their day thus far, and she had already taken off after the man and was already halfway down the street.

Tony spit a loud curse to whatever deity was playing games with them before starting to sprint after the two.

"I'm getting too fucking old for this!" Tony snarled in frustration from behind her as she rounded a quick corner.

She ignored his ill-mannered complaint and didn't bother wasting her breath in a reply. She pushed her legs faster, thankful for the fact that she had been on a tougher training regimen the past few weeks. A part of her noted that this was a good chance to see if the training was making an impact on her criminal-catching prowess. Though, her increased stamina more or less had to do with Tony _and _the extra miles she had been putting in, but she pushed the thought aside when she recalled that the man they were chasing was a physically built Marine who just got off tour.

The man was bound to be in better shape than she was and that was definitely saying something.

But at this point, she was just happy that she wasn't wearing anything dressy.

Ziva heard Tony's loud footsteps against the pavement behind her, and she was surprised that he was keeping up. Not only was he exhausted, but if she remembered right, he hadn't eaten lunch because he foolishly decided that a fifteen minute nap was more of a priority, and he wasn't exactly as in shape as she was. He was more fit than most men his age, yes, but going at the speed they were, it was a wonder that his lungs didn't give out.

She winced at her thought.

It was best not to jinx it, given the kind of day they were having.

They had already gone at least half a mile and the suspect showed no signs of slowing down. She hoped that Tony would keep up. It would be that much harder if she had to catch the Marine by herself.

Suddenly, an idea made an appearance. She wheeled a corner and took off down an alley, running perpendicular to the suspect, and she shouted over her shoulder, her voice rasping and not like hers at all, "Keep on him, Tony!"

Ziva wasn't sure if he heard her, but she didn't want to waste time by checking over her shoulder, so she simply prayed that he did. She also prayed that the Marine would take a right like she assumed he would.

At this point, Ziva felt the burn in her lungs because they had definitely gone at least a mile by now and only a few minutes - not more than four or five - had passed.

Getting a cramp right now would be disastrous, and much to her dismay, the familiar tightness appeared just above her hip bone.

All the same, she pushed herself harder and faster because this had to end already. It was dragging out too long and far for her liking, and it would be an understatement to say that she was relieved when she saw the opening to the main road. Once she reached the sidewalk, she let herself slow into a walk, and Ziva drew her gun with her chest heaving and sweat pouring into her eyes.

It was the middle of summer, and even though it was late in the afternoon, the humidity and heat lingered on. It was more apparent than ever.

Ziva was hoping with everything that she had that the suspect made a right ontoher street or else Tony would have to chase the man down alone.

And she knew for a fact that Tony wouldn't forgive her if that happened.

Ziva let her body slouch in relief when the Marine turned the corner and almost ran right-smack into her. She held her ground humorlessly and pointed her gun up at his face, smiling in a sick sort of glee when she imagined what she could do to him to get revenge for the ridiculously long chase.

The man wheeled and nearly lost his footing in his abrupt stop. He scrambled on the ground to run in the other direction when Tony turned the corner, red-faced with his gun drawn. Tony's eyes widened in relief, and his shoulders slumped at the sight of her before he brought back his focus and glared at the Marine with a deathly glint in his eye.

"Get on the ground!" Tony snarled. Ziva winced at the sound of Tony's voice - She would hate to be that man right about now. He barked, strangely sounding like Gibbs, "Put your hands behind your head!"

Tony took a single step forward and suddenly paled into a pasty shade of white and motioned for her to finish the job. He looked like he was about to collapse and to Ziva's relief, he didn't. He did, however, double over, his chest visibly heaving from the over exertion of the chase. A moment later, he let his hands fall on his hips with his face pointed up to the blue sky and eyes shut. His pulse was throbbing against the side of his neck and temple, and even from her spot a few feet away, she could see every beat of his heart. Tony was still gasping for air, and Ziva felt concern bubbling up within her.

The scarred lungs probably weren't helping his cause at all.

For Tony's sake, she wasn't gentle when she put the handcuffs on the Marine and yanked him to his feet by the collar of his shirt. The man made a gagging sound that she pointedly pretended not to hear, and she twisted the man's arms in a way that knew would inflict the most pain, and as she passed Tony, she paused briefly enough to bring a hand up to pat his chest.

"I'll cook you pasta tonight," she reassured him in a murmur.

Tony let his head lull down to meet her eyes, and with sullen and broken-down eyes, he nodded wordlessly.

If the exhaustion on his face wasn't apparent before, it definitely was now.

The swirling pool of irritation and disbelief and exasperation and frustration and utter _exhaustion _was shining very obviously in his bright eyes. He hadn't bothered to calm himself yet, to bring himself back to his playful, boyish, unprofessional self, and right then, right there, Ziva could see how much he wanted to crawl into bed and never come out. His eyes were a mess of emotions that he normally didn't reveal until they were behind closed doors, but for whatever the reason, Tony had brought down his shields and shared these emotions with her under the sweltering summer afternoon heat in the middle of the city.

Perhaps, he was too exhausted to realize that his mask was off.

Perhaps, he was too tired to care.

Perhaps, he never cared about it at all.

He gave her an achingly tired grimace before suiting up and placing his mask on again like the stubbornly determined bull he was.

She patted his chest one more time before motioning for him to start moving. And with his brave face back on, Tony obediently walked alongside her and back to the car that was more than a mile away without complaint.

And while they walked, it was almost like he wasn't ready to collapse at all.

But they both knew the truth.


	10. Ten

"Ouch," Tony said in sympathy, slipping into a seat across from Ziva and trying to not let the grimace that was creeping up into his expression show on his face. Swallowing hard, he reached over to take a crouton from her salad, murmuring, "McGee told me what happened."

It was actually worse than what McGee had told him, but Tony had steeled himself before he stepped into her view. He had an irking suspicion that McGee intentionally left out how bad she was hurt to avoid an ultimatum. Thinking about it, Tony didn't blame the probie's choice because in the heat of the moment, he probably would have started a shouting match with him. His temper wasn't something he could always control, and the fact that he wasn't there to have her back made him more angry than anything. While it would be foolish to think that he could have changed anything, it wouldn't stop his initial fury, so he understood why McGee kept it vague.

An injured Ziva made Tony angry at the world in general.

He waited for her to reply.

She stabbed her food in irritation, saying, "I had three two-hundred pound Marines on me. McGee was taking care of two of them himself and could hardly give me back up. I almost got them, too, but one swing to the face and bang." She gestured to her wrapped up, broken nose with her fork.

He took in the black eye as well, sighing heavily. Half-heartedly, he told her, complete with a half-smile that didn't really reach his eyes, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I still think you're the prettiest thing in the room."

She dead-panned, looking around the break room very pointedly, "You and I are the only ones here."

"Maybe except for me," he winked. With a tight-lipped smile, he reached over to squeeze her left hand with an emotional expression flooding his features, hoping that she understood what he was trying to do.

Of course, she did, and Ziva laughed softly, her mood lightening considerably, much to Tony's relief. She squeezed his hand in return with a shimmering in her good eye that he couldn't get the full feeling of. Eventually, she returned to her salad, but she didn't release his hand from her grasp. He ran his thumb against her smooth skin.

She murmured, "Thank you for not making a big deal out of this."

"You've had worse," Tony shrugged.

She saw right through it. "It bothers you."

"Of course it does," he admitted. "Why wouldn't it?"

"It is part of the job."

"Which is why I'm not making a big deal out of it, Ziva."

"But it still bothers you."

"Like I said, of course it does."

She gave him a doubtful look.

"I'm not making a big deal out of it because you don't want me to. Do I have to spell it out?" Tony said lightly. He leaned forward onto the table to tap her chin with his finger. The action evoked a small smile and a sigh from her, and it was enough for him. While he was at it, he took her fork from her hand and picked at her food. He was hungry enough that he would willingly eat salad. It didn't happen often. Handing it back to her, he said with a full mouth, "I've got to get back to work if I want to get home at a reasonable time. I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"I have orders to go home for the rest of the day in fear of -"

"Your nose bleeding more or something, and you're doped up on drugs." Tony finished, standing from his chair. "I know. McGee told me, remember? Do you need a ride home, or can you manage?" He knew the answer, but he thought he should ask for pleasantry's sake.

"I live fifteen minutes away. I will be fine."

Giving her a smile that he saved for when they were alone, he went over to her, swooping down to place a light kiss at the crown of her head. Tony squeezed her shoulder once. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Bye, Tony."

...

"Hey, you."

"Hi."

Tony smiled into his phone at the sound of her voice, an involuntary action, while turning away from the rest of the team and speaking in a low murmur. Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, he asked, "I wasn't expecting a call. Anything wrong?"

"No, but I have dinner."

He chuckled appreciatively, a rush of affection for her taking him by surprise. It leaked out into his voice. "Do you really?"

"Yes, I do," she answered him. He could tell that she had a smile on her face as well, and the image of its glow made his grow wider without him realizing it. Though, she explained by saying in an exasperation that wasn't directed at him, "I am bored at home and definitely not crippled like the doctor believes. I thought that I might as well do something useful."

"I'm starving," he reassured her. He added quietly, "You'll be back tomorrow."

A soft sigh rung in his ears. "I know."

He gazed out the window at the Navy Yard, watching the swell of the sea. He watched until his eyes glazed over, and he rubbed them tiredly while saying, "I was going to grab something on the way over, but I guess that's not necessary."

Taking a breath, he paused. "All right, well, I just finished up here, so I'll head right over. Oh, but I'm going to swing by my place first. Maybe in an hour or two?"

"Sounds great. Bye, Tony."

His eyes flickered closed at her light, playful voice, and three words took him by surprise and threatened to slip off his tongue of their own accord. They choked him with their sudden ambush, and he said with difficulty, "Bye. See you in a bit."

Snapping his phone shut, Tony exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair and letting his shoulder slump momentarily. He murmured a low curse because without him even realizing it, the three little words had prepared themselves for an appearance. He thought that maybe it would have taken longer, but a beat later, he realized that he was fooling himself. It was nonsense. He could have told her years ago. Could have, but didn't.

He had always known, in a subliminal way, at least.

The words had always been lingering in him, just out of reach, just beneath the surface.

He has loved her for a long time but never really allowed himself to admit it.

It was a stupid idea in itself. After everything that they went through, he should have been able to admit it. The both of them should have - but neither could because they both had issues with the idea of being dependent on someone else. They were so used to not getting attached, in keeping their guards up, that they were comfortable with leaving it unsaid, and for awhile, it worked. It was a well-oiled machine, familiar and very unlikely to break down.

Neither really could ever admit how dependent they were to each other.

At least until recently.

That's why it felt so strange for the words to be so clear and very honest in his head. He was so used to knowing but not knowing - or rather, not saying - and it felt like he just recalled a lost, blissful memory that he never should have forgotten in the first place. It was almost nostalgic and numbing but not by much. It was more enlightening than anything.

It was uncomfortable as well, definitely, but he almost felt relieved because it was like he was shedding his old skin for a better fit, like he was trying to start anew.

The realization made him jittery, but after dragging more air into his lungs, he felt better because he knew all along. He reassured himself that it was nothing new, and his pounding heart seemed to accept that answer without argument.

Straightening his posture, he took another breath in preparation for facing the world again with a tired expression that he couldn't fix. God, he needed sleep.

He turned back to the bullpen with a tingling sensation going down his spine, and he raised an eyebrow at the sight of Ducky, McGee, Palmer, and Abby in a tight circle, huddled together and whispering. Very pointedly, they averted their gazes from him upon realizing that he was looking at them, and he sauntered over with an unamused expression.

He should have ducked out of sight when he got the call.

"Scuttlebutt, team?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning on his desk.

"No idea what you're talking about, Tony," Abby exclaimed at little too quickly.

"You never could lie, Abs," Tony shrugged while his head tilted slightly. Looking them dead-straight, he told them, "If you don't want solid answers to whatever speculation," he waggled his fingers at them, "you've got going on, that's fine with me. Keep speculating. I'm sure it's fun." He took a seat at his chair, folding his hands in his lap with a self-satisfied smirk.

Ducky, taking the bait, took a step toward him. "Have you got yourself a new girlfriend, Tony?"

He wasn't exactly prepared for such a straight-forward question, but then again, he wasn't prepared for a question in the first place. In reality, he had not thought that they'd actually bite the bait and call the bluff.

Nonetheless, he tilted his head nonchalantly, shrugging. Keeping his face clean, he told them, "Testing the waters."

"See! I told you, Palmer!" Abby slapped the spectacle-clad man with the back of her hand.

He winced while rubbed his arm gingerly, mumbling, "Okay, okay, Abby."

McGee, wearing a devilish grin that could have only been learnt from the master himself, took a step forward as well. "Must be special girl, if you're telling us, Tony."

"Sure, McGoo. Real special." He flashed him a grin for show but took note of the fact that McGee was starting to use his own tricks against him. It was an amusing thing, yeah, but Tony couldn't help but feel slightly irritated by it.

"Does the girl have a name, Tony?" McGee pressed on. He brought up a hand to cut Tony off when he opened his mouth to speak. "No, no, wait. I have better question. Does _Ziva _know? I'm sure she's more interested in it than the rest of us are."

Tony barked a laugh despite himself. The whole situation felt like it was out of a movie, and god, he shouldn't enjoy it as much as he was. They were simply begging for him have fun with it. Unable to resist, he winked at McGee, saying, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Tony!" Abby half-barked, half-gasped, pushing past McGee and Ducky and marching toward him with a furious expression on her face.

She hit his arm hard, making him jump to his feet and demand through gritted teeth, "Hey, what was that for?"

Abby didn't recoil or step back, but glared up at him with a tight jaw.

He understood her reaction a beat later and couldn't keep up his persona. The look of disappointment on Abby's face was too heartbreaking for him to handle. In that moment, he understood why Abby had such a tight hold over Gibbs. Hell, she had a grip over all of them. She was so sincere, so honest, and it was endearing, magnetic, and irresistible. Tony couldn't stand to see her disappointed in him, and really, he'd do anything for her too.

Taking a bullet for the lovely Abby?

He'd do it without hesitation.

He had to admit that he was touched the she would stand up for Ziva the way she did. The two of them had gotten close since the summer in Somalia, and Tony was glad for that. The two emotionally head-strong women needed to stick together, and they got along well. He's been watching them.

Letting the tension in his body disperse and sighing at the younger woman, he touched her hand. Softly, he leaned in and whispered in her ear with sincerity, "I'm kidding, Abby. You _know_ I wouldn't do anything like that to her."

She eased but not by much. Eventually, though, she gave him a hug, right there behind his desk and in front of the rest of the team. He returned it just as tightly, momentarily being comforted by the smell of her fruity shampoo. Standing on her toes, she mumbled in his ear, "I know. Your mystery girl _is _Ziva, isn't it, Tony? I've been watching you two, and it's the only explanation."

He chortled and breathed in her ear, "Nothing can ever deceive you, Abs."

"How long?" she demanded.

"A month, tomorrow."

Releasing him, there was a glint of surprise on her face. She hissed, still quiet enough to keep the conversation between them, "What? That long? I didn't think that."

Tony shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets and saying in a normal voice, "Like I said, testing the water."

Abby stepped on his foot, huffing. She went back to McGee's desk, saying over her shoulder, "You could have said something."

"Nah," Tony chortled, putting his hands into his pockets. "You know how I work."

"It's different, though," Abby told him with narrowed eyes. She jerked her head toward Gibbs' empty desk, and Tony sighed and gave her an "_I know" _with his expression. It was an issue that they were putting off more and more each day.

Truthfully, it was an issue he had no intention of dealing with in the near future.

He noticed that they were being sent confused looks from the three other men who were left out of the loop.

"You mind filling us in?" Palmer asked, perched casually on Ziva's desk. His legs dangled off the side.

"I do mind, thanks, Autopsy Gremlin. All in good time," Tony replied, reaching down to grab his gear. He slung it over his shoulder and started out toward the elevators but paused in the center of the bullpen. "We're still on for tomorrow night, right?"

Palmer cleaned his glasses on his scrubs. "Drinks? Yeah. Still want me to bring Breena?"

"Of course, Palmer. Last time I checked, you were were still engaged, and unless that's changed within the last twenty-four hours, of course you have to bring her."

The younger man ignored him. "Is Ziva still up for it? I hear she's hurt pretty bad."

Tony snorted, "Ziva makes a lion look tame, Palmer. I'll ask her, but we're still on, then."

"Definitely, definitely," he turned to the others, "You guys sure you don't want to go?"

The other three shook their heads at him in turn, all explaining that they had plans. Tony took the opportunity to attempt to tiptoe out of the bullpen, but McGee spotted him and groaned, "Tony - You're seriously not leaving, are you? We've still got paperwork."

"Speak for yourself because I don't know about you, McGoo," Tony called as he walked out, "but I worked through lunch to get it done. I have plans tonight, thanks. Have fun." He made a waving motion over his shoulder without looking at them. "Later, team."

The elevators closed just as he heard McGee demand to no one in particular, "Since when did Tony get _anything _done early?"

...

Ziva said from behind her book, "We have to let them know soon."

Tony had just explained what happened in the bullpen earlier in the day, and he sighed in defeat, "I know, but a part of me wants to prolong Gibbs' lecture for a little longer." Her feet were propped up onto his lap, and he rubbed them idly as he spoke. His eyes occasionally flickered up to the television, but for the most part, his attention was focused on Ziva.

She set her book down on her stomach and said, "The longer we wait, the worse the lecture. They deserve to know."

"I know that. We'll tell them - given if Abby hasn't blabbed yet."

"I doubt it."

He pursed his lips.

"You never know - Gibbs may realize that it's working and that it's working well and leave us alone," he offered. Immediately, though, Tony shook his head at the sound of his over-the-top optimism. They were talking about Gibbs here. Somehow, he thought that the Director would be more lenient about the situation than their boss, and that was definitely saying something.

Ziva snorted in reply, probably thinking the same thing.

Tony continued to talk, "Okay, okay. Maybe not. But you have to admit that it's working."

"It is working better than I ever thought possible."

"What? You thought this would blow up in our faces?" The question was a serious one, but he felt the need to lighten it, so he lightly ran his nail up the length of her foot. She squirmed away, giggling.

Tony allowed himself a grin because the only way to evoke a giggle from her, though it was always half-hearted, was by tickling her. The sound was light and soft and very Ziva, despite the fact that she _didn't _giggle. Or so he thought. Upon realizing it, he was left speechless. He could clearly remember the dumb-struck, what-the-fuck feeling in him when he realized that yes, Ziva David was capable of giggling.

She kicked him with her heel before flipping positions so that her head was resting on his thigh.

Gazing up at him, she admitted, "It was a possibility, yes."

His fingers wove themselves through her curls, and he massaged the top of her head with a clawing motion. His eyes travelled up to the television momentarily before returning to her face. "I guess that I have to agree with that. Hell, between the two of us, we've probably thought up every damn outcome to this."

"It would not surprise me," she laughed softly.

"We overanalyze situations, and while it's great because we're cops, it fucks with our personal lives, but you already know that."

She sighed, taking his free hand in hers and letting her eyes flicker closed. "Yes. Though, I do not think it has interfered thus far."

He stared at her for a long moment before he started choking with laughter. It made his body rumble, and Ziva felt the vibrations from her spot in his lap. She frowned up at him, waiting for an explanation. Rubbing his eyes that were brimming with tears, he said, "Ziva - Are you kidding me? It's caused so many problems for us. It's caused hundreds - no, _thousands _- of fights and more issues than I can possibly recall. Hell, I bet that if we weren't cops and I met you in a grocery store or something, we'd be married with two kids by now."

She sat up and rolled her eyes at him. "But the fact of the matter is that we _are _cops and that we _didn't _meet in a grocery store."

He didn't fail to spot the pinkish tinge to her cheeks, but he decided not to comment on them. "Okay, I'll give you that one, and I guess you're right about it not interfering since this," he motioned between them with his finger, "happened. It's surprising, really."

Thoughtfully, she nibbled on her lip. "I think that we may have questioned each other so much in the past that it may be impossible for us to do so anymore."

He thought it over and knew that she was right as usual. At this point, it would take a pair of industrial-strength pliers to sever the trust between them, and hell, if they were being truthful, even that wouldn't be enough to break the bond. The level of trust had been broken and repaired so many times that it had grown virtually indestructible, in theory, anyway.

"That's a reasonable claim, I think," Tony finally agreed. With a tender expression on his face, he reached over to brush the hair from her face and sighed again at her broken nose and black eye. It irritated him that this was a part of their job and that it happened often enough that he wasn't _that _bothered by it.

He told her quietly, "You should probably get some rest."

"As should you."

"You're the one with the broken nose!" he retorted.

Patiently, she said, "You have been tired, lately, Tony. I have noticed."

"What can I say? I can only keep up with a ninja for so long," he joked, but when he saw the expression on his face, he subdued and reassured her, "We've had a heavy case load these past couple weeks. A nice weekend to relax, and I'll be as good as new."

Carefully, she pressed on, "Does it have anything to do with the undercover operation?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you that, Ziva," he sighed, leaning back on her couch. Inhaling deeply, he murmured, "But yes and no. It's not stressful, but it's frustrating. I'm not getting any leads, and SecNav won't take no for an answer. It's nothing, really."

He was thankful for her simple answer. "Okay."

"Okay. Let's get you into bed before you pass out on me. You're heavier than you look, you know."

Ziva hit him hard enough to make him yelp and jump from his spot on the couch.

He gave her an annoyed expression before he broke out into a small smile and offered a hand to pull her to her feet while asking, "What's up with you women and not being able to take a joke?"

* * *

><p>AN: Fillers, fillers everywhere! Hope it wasn't too unpleasant. I just want to take a moment to say that I appreciate all the feedback and read each and every review. This has been more than I expected and imagined, and I'm still really bewildered by all of it.

Also, I'm going to be abroad for awhile, so don't expect another chapter until the beginning to mid August. I know I normally update every week or so, give or take, so your patience is appreciated.

Thanks for reading, all!


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